Two to the Head: A Courier Six Novel
by SurprisinglyOdd
Summary: "Two to the head, but one gets up..." Damned right. Even a bullet in the head can't keep this courier down. The lights of New Vegas glow in the horizon, and one man holds the chip that can change the whole damned world. All she has to do is get it back. But business is never easy in the Mojave, and Brianna O'Reilly is part of something a hell of a lot bigger. Ring-A-Ding-Ding.
1. Ain't That A Kick in the Head

**War. War never changes.**

Since the dawn of humanity, when man first discovered the killing power of rock and bone, blood has been spilled in the name of everything, from gods, to justice, to simple, psychotic rage. It is merely human nature for men to fight, a flame that has remained, and will remain, lit for eternity.

In the year 2077, after a millennia of armed conflict, the destructive nature of man could sustain itself no longer. Atomic bombs plunged the earth into an abyss of nuclear fire and radiation, devastating the world and, finally, directing mankind to the point of no return. Doomsday. In a long and decisive two hours, the Great War finally snuffed out the dying flame of man.

Or so it had seemed.

It was not, as some had predicted, the end of the world. Instead, the nuclear warheads served to usher mankind into the next bloody chapter of human history, one which would surpass its predecessor in bloodshed and conflict. Although man had finally succeeded in destroying the world...

**War never changes.**

Thousands were spared the horrors of the holocaust by residing in vaults - large underground structures built to shelter those lucky enough to be granted entrance in the days leading up to the Great War. The impenetrable steel walls of the underground shelters protected their inhabitants from the nuclear exchange. When the vaults opened, their dwellers had only the hell of the wastes to greet them. Nothing remained but mutated abominations that roamed the ruins of the old world. Though rare in number, many also survived the Great War from outside the safety of a vault. The intense radiation did not kill them, but transformed them into rotting, corpse-like beings known as 'ghouls'. Twisted, cadaverous, and some wildly feral, each one lived to serve as a grim representation of the sheer stubbornness of humanity, and what this race has been doomed to endure.

It wasn't long before the vault dwellers and other survivors set out across the ruins of the old world to build new societies. Villages were established from the ruins of old towns and cities, many living under their own rules and government to defend themselves against the horrors of the wastes. Tribes were formed by those who favoured the sheer, vast expanse of the wasteland. Those who could not find their way resorted to mindless raiding, pillaging, and enslaving. Some were simply driven insane by the horrors that the wasteland had to offer.

As decades passed, what had been the American South-west united beneath the flag of the New California Republic, a government dedicated to the old world values of democracy, and the rule of law. As the Republic grew, so did its needs. Scouts spread east, seeking territory, wealth, and resources. They ventured into the merciless expanse of the Mojave Desert and returned with tales of a city untouched by the warheads that had scorched the rest of the world. A giant, neon fly trap luring travellers from all over the Mojave. A city embellished with lights and sound, filled with lively people and extravagant parties. A city dedicated to vice and sin.

The city of New Vegas.

Past the glowing city, the NCR scouts brought reports of a giant, concrete wall spanning the Colorado River. This wall could supply the entire Mojave Wasteland with constant energy and clean, pure water which it so desperately required. And so the NCR mobilized its army and sent it east, to occupy the Hoover Dam and restore it to working condition. But across the Colorado, a different society had arisen under the name of Caesar's Legion, an army of slavers, rapists and marauders, united under the flag of the bull.

One year had passed since the NCR defended Hoover Dam from the Legion onslaught. Just barely. The Legion did not retreat. Across the Colorado they continue to gather strength. Campfires burn; training drums beat. Caesar's scouts spread like a toxin across the Mojave, dressed in a mockery of old Roman armour and passing along their messages in their newly accepted mother tongue of Ancient Latin.

Through it all, the New Vegas Strip has remained open for business, under control by its mysterious overseer, Mister House. His army of police robots and rehabilitated tribals keep the Strip in constant business, promising amazing sights and shows in its casinos and bars.

Amidst the war and chaos that continues to plague the Mojave Desert, six couriers, hired by the Mojave Express, head along the dusty road to New Vegas. Courier Six carries the package that has the potential to change the entire world. But business never runs quite so smoothly in the Mojave. What seemed to be a simple delivery job for this courier has taken a turn for the worst. Because war...

**War never changes.**

* * *

Silence. Heavy. Ringing. Suffocating. Fluttering eyelids. Blinded, bleeding. Dying. Wrists bound and burning. Flesh scraped by sand. The faintest scratching of a shovel scraping against dirt. Footsteps, much too close. And moving closer. Closer.

And then a voice.

_"Looks like our little birdie's wakin' up over here."_

A click, then a light exhale followed by the dull stench of smoke. More footsteps, then silence. Dizzy, nauseous and paralysed. Kneeling down, head bowed. Disoriented. Confused. Lost and blind and then... A breath. A heartbeat. Returning thoughts and buzzing questions.

_What the...?_

The same voice. "Take the bag off." Lazy, but authoritative. Cold.

Another voice, gruff and barely intelligible. Bored. "Just finish her like this. Be easier."

"Hey, hey, hey, _I'm_ calling the shots here. Maybe you Khans kill people without looking 'em in the face. But I ain't a fink, dig? Take the bag off. Let's see if our birdie's gonna sing for us."

Slow footsteps and low grumbling. A hand grasping at the top of her head and yanking upwards. She winced. And then she could breathe. She gasped for fresh air, one eye opening for just a moment before her vision blurred and doubled. The other eye blind, caked with blood. A flash of blinding pain and she flinched. The uttering of a pained curse, spat out between gritted teeth.

Moments passed with only agonising pulses behind her eyes. Then she could see. The pale light of the moon was all too bright, looming over the hill and basking the night in silver. She blinked, turning her head just enough to see... _People. _Three people. The man in the checkered suit caught her eye first, standing right in the centre of her blurring vision. He puffed out a cloud of smoke as his eyes scanned over her, calculating and cold. A smirk played on his lips. A chill ran down along her spine.

Another man stood to his right, and a woman on the other side, but she could hear the breathing of others behind her. Heavy breathing. The pair looked different from the suited man in front of them. Both were dressed in tight leathers that did little to cover their muscular, tanned bodies. Intricate tattoos coloured their bare arms. The woman, whose head had been shaven into two parallel Mohawks, studied the captured woman for a moment, before directing her attention to the freshly dug hole at her feet. It was elongated. _For burying a coffin? _

_No. Too shallow._

The man on the other side seemed bored, but otherwise devoid of expression. He was bearded and scruffy, with a patterned bandana tied around his head. His hair had been cut into a large, spiked Mohawk. He leaned lazily against his shovel, appearing indifferent to what was happening around him.

After taking a long drag from his cigarette, the man in the chequered suit spoke up once again, this time directing his attention towards his captive. "Hey there, doll," he drawled, swaggering past the leathered thugs. His eyes met hers, almost with sympathy. Almost.

"Sorry you got caught up in this scene, but I'm afraid your little package is just too important for me to let slip." He flashed a wicked smile before withdrawing a small, shiny object from the front pocket of his suit. A bottle cap? Was that what she had been carrying? The courier had never thought to look at what had been wrapped up in the package. The thought had never even crossed her mind. She hadn't cared.

_Guess I should've._

"It's a poker chip, darlin', just in case you've never seen one. Can't say you strike me as the worldly type." With a small flourish of his hand the man tossed the chip into the air and caught it between his fingers with ease. It flashed silver in the moonlight. "And this little thing... It's gonna change the whole world." He smiled and tucked the object away in his pocket before extending his hand towards the leathered woman next to him, who seemed to almost shy away at the movement. The courier's heart skipped a beat. It looked as if-

"Yeah, just… Do it quickly, Benny, alright?" The woman mumbled, her accent thick but unrecognisable to the captive below her. The courier could only watch as the tattooed thug slipped a hand along her thigh and withdrew a pistol from its holster. It glinted silver upon hitting the light, and her stomach lurched as the suited man reached out to take it with a slight, venomous smirk.

_They're gonna kill me._

"Sorry about this," the stranger sighed, his voice thick with sadness. The courier couldn't tell if the emotion was genuine, and she didn't care. He continued, his voice sickly sweet and simpering, "I wish there was some other way, pussycat." His expression warmed for a moment and he smiled sadly. "Who knows, maybe we coulda-"

_"Shut up!"_ She spat, adrenaline surging through her veins and carrying forward her ragged, trembling voice. "You so much as _breathe_ again in my direction and I will... I will _skin_ you, you son of a bitch."

He only raised an eyebrow in response. "My, that's certainly different." He moved closer to her, eyebrows knitted in questioning. "See, most people would be begging and crying by now. Wouldn't you agree?"

"G-go to hell."

"Some time, perhaps." He chuckled, and when the courier looked up she was staring into the barrel of a pistol. She immediately opened her mouth to protest, to scream and curse and cry and beg. She hesitated. It struck her suddenly that she could scream at him all she wanted, but her words would mean no more than the dirt beneath her fingernails in the end. Instead she forced herself to meet the stranger's cold, serpentine eyes.

_Probably should have seen this coming anyway. Job was too good to be true._

"That's the spirit, pussycat. Facing your death with some courage, I like that. Now, I know this must seem like an eighteen karat run of bad luck for you, princess, but get this…" He chuckled. "The game was rigged from the start."

For a moment there was silence. And then a _bang._


	2. From the Grave

**GOODSPRINGS**

**JULY 14**

**19:56**

Pale sunlight peering in from broken shutters. Ragged breaths tainted with the bitter taste of blood and chemicals. Leaden muscles, pounding head, beating heart. A groan of pain and fluttering eyelids. "What the _fu…UCK?!"_

It hit her with all the gentle ease of a charging bighorner, stealing the breath from her lungs and drawing a loud cry of pain from her throat. The pain was immense, lancing through her skull and paralysing her body until she couldn't move her lips to yell or curse. She wanted to kick and scream and beg for the pain to stop and it hurt and fuck it just hurt so-

It was over as quickly as it had come, calming down to a steady, dull throb, more uncomfortable than painful. She breathed out a weak curse, slowly catching her breath until she was finally capable of forming one logical thought.

_Where the hell am I?_

She could feel a hard mattress scratching against her bare arms, and a whirring fan blew a light breeze over her skin from somewhere overhead. Experimenting with movement, she traced the bumps on the mattress with the tips of her fingers, and turned her head slowly to one side despite the throbbing in her temples. When she tried to open her eyes, a flash of white pain sealed them shut again. But she wasn't dead.

_She wasn't dead._

A sudden voice, male and gruff, lifted the heavy weight of silence. "Well, I'll be damned..." She detected the sound of feet scuffling against dry floorboards as the man hobbled towards her. "Welcome back to the land of the living, missy. I sure didn't expect to see you twitchin' any time soon after what happened to ya. Guess my sewin' skills ain't so bad after all."

The stranger's excitement earned only a pained groan in response. Each word was like a blunt knife tearing its way through her head, into her skull and right through her brain. She wasn't even sure if she could speak just yet. Experimentally, she cleared her throat and managed, "Could you… Could you just… Shut the… Shuh…"

"My apologies, ma'am," the stranger replied, clearly taking the hint. "I don't expect you to get up there an' tap-dance for me or nothin', but you've been out cold for almost a solid week now. Forgive my excitement an' all that, but I'd like to at least see you open them eyes."

The old man's wish was granted immediately. Her eyes snapped open and she moved to sit bolt upright. As soon as she attempted to straighten her back, however, her stomach lurched, bile rising in her throat which she quickly swallowed with a shudder of disgust. Her head swam and her body trembled, her muscles unable to take the strain of such a simple task.

"Hey now," the stranger warned, hastily rushing forward to lie her back down again. "I know you're eager darlin', but it's gonna be a while before you're up and doin' the tango." He moved away from her to situate himself at the foot of her bed. With a chuckle he said, "Least I know your brain's still functioning. Thought I might have a breathin' corpse on my hands. Hell, you certainly look like one.

Another pained groan was all she could muster in response. What was even happening here, anyway? The thumping in her head was killing her, and she didn't want to waste another damned second with this stranger at the foot of her bed.

"You should be a little more enthusiastic than that, missy. That damned bullet shoulda killed ya."

"Yeah, I figured that out," she croaked, lying herself back down as comfortably as the ratty old mattress allowed. Her memories returned in a flash of images behind her eyes. Foggy, perhaps, but certainly tangible given her current situation. "I don't rightly remember digging myself outta my own grave. Who the hell even brought me here? What... What happened?"

"You can thank old Victor for that," he replied cheerfully. "Dug you outta your own grave and wheeled you over here right and quick. Stupid, drawlin' moron's good for something, at least. And the man who shot you must have been the most cock-eyed son of a gun in the Mojave Desert. Only managed to get the very left side of your skull. Didn't even make a scratch on the old brain, but it sure rattled it around quite a bit. Even still, another few minutes and you woulda been a goner for sure."

Memories flickered behind her eyes as the stranger spoke, clearer and clearer with every word. She remembered looking straight into the barrel of an ornate, silver pistol aimed right between her eyes. Or slightly to the left, perhaps. She couldn't remember the finer details, but nonetheless, the gun had been aimed at her head, so it hadn't been her attacker's intention to let her survive in the first place. That bastard in the chequered suit would have hell to pay by the time she was-

_Chequered__ suited man?_

Damn, that was right. She couldn't visualize the face of his face, though she was heading in the right direction, and faster than she'd expected.

"Anyway," the old man continued, "I did manage to get all the bits of lead out of your skull right and quick. However you will have a, uh, rather noticeable scar on your left side. Darker patches where the skin was burned by the force of the bullet, and then there's the stitches to worry about. It's gonna look a little rough at the start, but it should fade a little after a while. The skin should even out a bit, at least."

"Fantastic," she grumbled. "How bad is it, really?"

"Well, uh, you were shot from the front of yer head, so it was mostly 'round your temple and very left side of your forehead where you took most of the damage. Now, your hair will probably cover a little of it once I get the bandages off, but I'm afraid the darker tissue will be visible all the way up to your eye socket, most like. Round about there."

"Great. Guess I'm never getting laid again, huh?"

The stranger got to his feet with a theatrical groan and studied his patient. "I think that's probably the least of your concerns, miss. Doesn't look like you'll be walkin' anywhere for some time," he explained. "Guess you're stuck with me 'til those legs start itchin' to tango. You alright to stay awake a little while longer while I look at them for damage, or would you rather I knocked you out for a bit?"

The woman hesitated for a moment. "Head's hurtin' like a bitch, but I can't say I wanna be out cold while a stranger pokes around my legs." After a moment she decided, "Though I guess I've had worse. Knock me out."

He chuckled, and she could hear him beginning to root around for painkillers. "Don't you worry, miss. I am a certified doctor from ol' Vault 21. You won't have to worry about a thing. Now just sit still and keep your muscles relaxed while I put this in."

"Yeah. That doesn't sound creepy at all."

The stranger gave no indication that he had heard her, if he even did at all. "Now, I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to ask you just one question before I put you out again. You alright with tellin' me your name?"

"Yeah, uh..." _Shit._ What was her name? "It's, uh... Bree... Brianna. Brianna O'Reilly."

"Nice to meet you, Brianna O'Reilly. I'm Doc Mitchell, and it's a damned fine pleasure to welcome ya to Goodsprings. Great to finally meet ya after all."

"Pleasure's all mine."

She was out before the needle left her vein.

* * *

"But you don't _understand,_ Doc. He was here again yesterday, and you _know_ he isn't just asking anymore! If we don't hand that poor man over... Cobb's gonna gather his little friends out there and burn this place to the ground. We _can't_ just stand around here and wait anymore! We've been doing that for way too long, and I'm _sick_ of it!"

Brianna's eyelids flickered, a young woman's voice melting away the vivid pallet of her dreams until she returned to painful consciousness once again. She didn't recognise the voice, and she hadn't expected to. She could hear the anger in her voice, though. Something about a man named… _Bob?_

"Miss Smiles, I am a fusty old man with a bum leg. Now I don't know what you expect me to do, but we are _not_ condemning an innocent man to his death!" The replying voice was owned by Doc Mitchell. The woman did not give a response.

Fireflies zipped behind Brianna's eyes as they slowly opened, allowing her to finally take in the doctor's office for all it was. It wasn't much to look at, though it was significantly better than most of the other places where she'd recently been spending her nights. Unusually intact and well-kept bookshelves were littered with pastel-coloured books and journals, not one of them visibly tainted or scorched. Other shelves contained medical kits and old, faded photographs barely visible behind dusty, broken glass. The swinging bulb overhead was mostly protected by an old, busted shade. It offered plenty of light, enough to illuminate the test tubes and chemistry sets which had been neatly placed along a long desk. Most contained bright, harsh looking chemicals.

Looking around, she could see Doc Mitchell's shadow in the hallway. He stood with his arms folded, looking down at a shorter figure who was clearly visible as she leaned against the door frame.

Footsteps scuffed against the floorboards as the doctor made an appearance in his office. He heaved a long sigh before glancing down at his patient with a sullen expression. She managed to return his gaze with one eye, the other concealed by her tight bandage. She didn't particularly care about the details of his conversation with the stranger at the door frame; what she was concerned about was why the hell she had been so rudely awakened.

"Ah, looks like my patient's finally awake," the doctor announced loudly, glancing behind his shoulder to make sure that the other woman could hear him.

"Oh, really?" She piped from across the room, her voice bubbly and high-pitched in her excitement, but not unpleasantly so. "That's great!" The anger seemed to melt off her frame as she hurried into the room, practically skipping over to meet her. "Hey! I've been dying to meet you!"

"Huh...?" Brianna mumbled, rubbing her eyes tiredly to get a clear view of the woman at her bedside. She appeared to be Caucasian, but Brianna suspected that there was a trace of Hispanic some ways down the line. She was pretty enough, with large brown eyes, lightly sun-kissed skin, full lips and a short, pointed nose. She wore her hair in a loose ponytail, and its strawberry blonde colour paired with her height and overall cheeriness simply radiated an overly sunny disposition. Her armour hugged her curves nicely, made from frayed leather clearly patched up in places. Brianna was surprised to see a hunting rifle at the woman's back – she didn't seem at all like somebody who would want to use it.

"Of course!" She chirped. "I mean, it's not every day you hear of someone returning from the dead, y'know?" After a brief pause she continued, "And, well, I _kinda_ wanted to know what happened to you. We don't see much action 'round these parts, and you don't really look like the dangerous sort."

"Might have something to do with the hole in my head."

"Fair point, fair point. _Soooo_... What _did_ happen to you? I mean I've heard rumours, but none of 'em are exactly, uh... Realistic. You didn't climb outta your grave with guns blazing, dressed in nothing but a leather thong, did you?"

She actually earned a chuckle with that one. "Wish I fucking had."

The woman smiled, extending a hand. "Well aren't you in positively good spirits? I'm Sunny, Sunny Smiles. Glad to meet you."

She managed to reach out and give Sunny's hand a weak shake. "Sunny Smiles? You're kidding."

She laughed. "Not the most common of names, I know, but my parents were an overly optimistic bunch. I suppose you get used to hearing it after a while. Well, it's great to meet you, anyway. I'll be happy to help out once you're up and out of here; I know a pretty good deal about surviving the wasteland, if you're interested."

Brianna managed to prevent the smirk that threatened on her lips. Like _she_ needed help surviving the wasteland. She was a courier, after all, and she'd had riskier jobs even before that. "I'll think about it. But you gotta tell me who Bob is first." That seemed like a good way to get information from the blonde, and her own curiosity had already gotten the better of her. Besides, Sunny Smiles looked like the easiest woman in the world to manipulate.

"Cobb, you mean? _Ugh._ The guy's been hanging around here for a while now, just trying to cause trouble, we think. Just empty threats, hardly anything to worry about." She gave a reassuring smile. "We're used to it."

_Wow._ Brianna was actually impressed. She might have been completely sold on the lie if it weren't for the overheard conversation in the hallway. "Yeah, nice try. I mean, he's only trying to burn this whole place to the ground right? He wants you to hand an innocent man over? Nothing to worry about, I guess."

"Oh. You heard that?" She released a sigh of defeat. "Well, okay. He has some interesting friends. Powder Gangers, they call themselves. Bunch of convicts that escaped the NCRCF a while back. They're _very_ dangerous people, armed with more dynamite than you can shake a stick at."

The doctor pointedly cleared his throat. "Sunny, I'd appreciate it if we dropped the subject of Powder Gangers and dynamite. Don't want my patient trying to play do-gooder so she can get herself shot again. Or blown up."

"I know," Sunny defended. "But I was thinking…" She turned to face Brianna again, her hands tightening into fists. "Look, I don't make a habit of asking strangers for help, especially not the ones who go around getting themselves shot at, but…" She hesitated for a moment. "Something big's happening. Something really big. I'm just worried that the Powder Gangers might… Might try to take over the town. It's not like they haven't threatened to do it before. If you're feeling better sometime soon, maybe… Maybe you could…"

_"Help_ you?"

"Well, yeah. I'm not saying you'd have to get rid of them for us or anything like that, but if the town's attacked we could use all the help we can get. Even if you can't fight for us, I'm sure there are lots of other things you could do. Like, we could use-"

"Sunny!" The doctor snapped. "That'll do."

"But Doc-"

"That's _enough,_ Miss Smiles. Now, I know you wanna help, but we cannot afford to mess around with those people. You know as well as I do what they're capable of."

"I know, I know, but-"

"What? You think you can turn a bunch of farmers into an armed militia?"

"I'm saying we could try. Think about it! We have Chet's armour and guns. Trudy has a _ton_ of friends from the Saloon; Pete's got his stash, and you're here to patch us up if things go bad."

"I thought Trudy told you-"

"That we should hand an innocent man over in the interests of a quiet life? Doc, you _know_ I don't want fighting. You know I would hate to see anybody get hurt, but Ringo… He's…"

"You think we should risk our lives to protect a stranger that just came blunderin' in from nowhere all because you've gone all doe-eyed on him? That is _enough,_ Sunny. Now get. I have a patient to attend to."

For a moment it looked as if Sunny was going to protest further, but after a moment her shoulders slumped. "Fine," she spat, turning around and flouncing out of the doctor's office. There was a long, lingering silence before Brianna heard the front door slam. She looked to Doc Mitchell, who merely slumped down on the plastic chair at her bedside, groaning in defeat.

"That girl… She's a strange one, alright. Never asks for any help and when she does it's because she wants to turn the whole damned town into an army. That just a woman thing?"

"Somethin' like that."

"Ah, I get it." He clapped his hands together. "So girlie... How you feelin'?"

Good question. One she hadn't even thought to ask herself yet._ How _am_ I feeling?_ "Uh… Pretty shit, actually. Head's pounding like a bitch, and I can barely see what's in front of me."

It was only then that she noticed that the doctor had already produced a notebook of some sort, along with a pencil. "Headache… Symptoms of Glaucoma -probably temporary. And your legs seem fine. Probably workin' just as they always did, but you'll still find it hard to walk for a little while. Dizziness and nausea can be expected. Possible-"

"I wanna try it."

"Pardon?"

"Let me stand up. Come on, I'm sick of lying here."

"Darlin', you can barely open your own eyes."

"Jesus, just let me get outta this fucking bed, alright?!"

_Ouch._ Maybe shouting hadn't been the best option. Even her own words sent stabbing pains through her skull. But she had to get up sooner or later, and later meant less time to sort herself out and focus on getting out of this dump. What was the worst that could happen?

"Well… If you think you're up for it. I got a nice hot bath waiting for ya just across the hall, in fact. If you can get up and make it to my living room just out there," he gestured to an open door just a ways from the foot of her bed, "then you can answer me some questions, just so I can get an idea of your mental health. Then maybe I'll even spare you my last bar of soap."

"Fair enough."

"That's the spirit! Ready when you are, doll." The doc extended a wrinkled hand to her. She took it, biting the intense pounding in her head and forcing her unwilling muscles to cooperate as she pulled herself up. The pain was becoming almost too intense to bear, but she clenched her teeth and heaved herself forward until she was finally in a sitting position, already out of breath with her lungs screaming in protest.

"You alright?" The doc asked, letting go of her hand.

"Fine," she insisted through gritted teeth.

"C'mon, don't give up on me now, girlie."

She groaned, twisting her body around until she was facing the hallway opposite. The doc hurried in front of her, ready to steady her if the dizziness became too much for her. Blinking against the harsh lighting of the bulb overhead, she saw double, then triple. But she continued to bite the pain and shake off the overwhelming disorientation, slowly putting one foot on the dry floorboards beneath her, soon followed by the other. The doctor stepped aside to allow her room, standing just close enough to catch her if she fell.

Her muscles screamed and shook as she shifted her weight onto both legs and gripped the doctor's hand with the rest of her strength. She clenched her teeth and released a loud groan of agony as she attempted to stand. Brightly coloured spots danced along her vision; sweat rolled off her bare skin and she lifted herself of the bed with a grunt. She wobbled. Steadied herself. And stood.

"Well I'll be damned..." The doctor breathed, staring at her in awe.

His praise fell on bloodied ears, near deafened by intense ringing. Brianna's stomach lurched violently and she felt bile rising in her throat. Swallowing it only served to make the nausea worse. Her line of sight tilted drastically. She didn't realise that her body had been close to following suit until she felt the doctor pulling at her hand to keep her upright.

"Alright, this way now…"

He guided her towards the living room, only a few paces away. Still, the trip proved difficult enough with her trembling legs. She managed to pass through the door frame, gripping it for support, and finally found herself a nice view of the room. It was much the same as the one behind her, with a few tidy bookshelves lining one wall. A couple of busted old chairs surrounded an oddly shaped wooden table with rounded corners. A similar chair sat in the middle of the room, positioned to face a long, lime coloured couch just a little bit ahead. A small end table sat between the two chairs, stacked with notebooks and pencils.

"C'mon," the doctor encouraged, "Get yourself sitting down there and we'll all be laughin'. C'mon, that's it."

_Okay,_ she told herself, _one step._ _Two. Three. Four…_

Before she knew it her feet were brushing against the red carpet in the centre of the living room. The couch was just another few paces ahead. She wobbled, her head swimming as she reached one arm out to find purchase on the couch's arm. Then she allowed herself to fall down on the busted seat, burying her head in her hands and groaning. _"Fuuuuuuuck."_

She could hear the doctor's footsteps, and his long groan as he sat himself down on the chair opposite her. "Well by damned, girlie, that ain't somethin' you see every day."

"I figured that," she shot back.

"Alright, alright. I guess I'll be lettin' you sleep here for the rest of the day. Can't imagine you have the strength to make it back to the other room?

She shook her head in confirmation.

"Alrighty then. Now, I just have some questions here..."

She rubbed her eyes, clearing her blurred vision to the doctor pulling out a couple of pages from his notebook. "Nothin' too stressful, I assure you. Just a few statements, and I want you to tell me if you agree or disagree."

Well that would be easy enough. She'd manage to bullshit her way through a number of these before – she couldn't imagine that the doctor would like what he heard if she answered some of his questions truthfully.

"What's this for?"

"I just need to get some idea of your personality."

"By 'personality' do you mean 'mental health'?"

"Nah, nothin' quite so fancy."

"Hm. Guess that's alright."

"Okay, first one: _"Conflict just ain't in my nature."_

"No opinion."

_"I ain't given to relying on others for support."_

"No opinion."

_"I'm always fixin' to be the centre of attention."_

"No opinion."

The doctor frowned at her, setting his papers aside. "Girlie, this is a serious questionnaire," he scolded. "I'm gonna need you to take this seriously. There isn't anything your hiding, is there?"

"I have a headache. I just rose from the fucking dead. I don't wanna sit here and answer a bunch of stupid questions, alright? How is 'knowing my personality' gonna help with fixing up my head?"

"Alright, alright. This is a psychologically-based test designed to check for any signs of mental health issues, and to give some indication of your emotional well-being. Now, these," he held up the papers. "These are rewrites from a few medical books I managed to find, and they_ are_ effective. I'm not sayin' that there's anythin' wrong with ya, but you did just get shot in the head. Thought it would be best to look for signs of anxiety, panic disorder, or Post Traumatic Stress. Understand?"

"… Seriously? All from a few shitty questions?"

"That's right."

"Fine. Disagree, agree, and agree. Continue."

"Thank you. _I'm slow to embrace new ideas."_

"Hmm… Disagree."

_"I charge in to deal with my problems head-on."_

"Agree."

"I always think about myself before I consider others."

"… Agree."

"Humph… Now isn't that telling," he mumbled, snapping his book shut before slowly getting to his feet. "Well, guess you'd wanna get some shut-eye, right? Think you can manage that on your own while I take a few more tests?"

"Yeah… I think I can manage that."


	3. Back in the Saddle

**GOODSPRINGS**

**JULY 16**

**10:54**

Teeth clenched in agony. Heart pounding. Muscles trembling in protest, threatening to collapse. A groan of exertion and doubled vision. Head thumping. Blinking against harsh lighting. Pain. So much pain. Nausea and dizziness. Another step. And another. Shaking legs threatening to give out at any moment. Ringing ears.

_Fuck._

"That's it girlie, steady now. Slowly does it."

The courier took a step forward. She wobbled, but with the doctor's help she managed to quickly steady herself and prepare for another step. Then another. The pounding in her ears was enough to drown out the doctor's words of encouragement, but she didn't need to hear them. She needed to focus. _Focus._ Another step, stumbling this time as a sharp pain lanced through her skull. She gritted her teeth, and didn't stop.

_Almost there._

"Few more steps now, doll. C'mon, don't give up on me."

She didn't care about him. No. _Bathroom. _A few more steps and the bathroom would be hers. Washing off the blood and grime would be blissful, and finally a break from constantly lying down and vomiting up whatever food the doctor offered to her. She needed time to _think. _Her memory was in tatters. She was too groggy to recall her own name at times, never mind any details of her attacker. And she needed to think about what, and more importantly _who, _had put her here, unconscious and bleeding to death. She was so close now, enough to reach out her arm and run her hand along the door frame. Another step and she was in the hallway, directly facing what seemed to be the only intact door in the building. She reached for the doorknob and tightened her hand around it, unable to suppress a wide grin of pride.

_I actually made it._

"Well I'll be damned, girlie!" The doctor guffawed, slapping his thigh. "You head on in there. Take as much time as ya need!"

With that he hobbled off, chuckling to himself as he disappeared into his office. Brianna stopped for a moment to breathe before pushing the door open, revealing the bathroom at last. Predictably, it wasn't anything special. A shiny porcelain sink lay to her right, with a mirror hanging just above it, tied to a nail that had been loosely hammered into the wall. Right next to it was the cleanest toilet she had ever seen, with the bathtub positioned along the wall just opposite her. She wasted no time as she shut the door behind her, silencing the doctors' comments about not getting her bandages wet and calling for him if something happened. She supposed that the least she could do was repay him with kindness, but instead paid him no mind as she locked the door behind her and leaned herself against it to catch her breath. Her head throbbed painfully, enough to drain the energy from her muscles and steal the breath from her lungs. She questioned her ability to remain upright, never mind remove her blood splattered underwear. God, walking was _exhausting._

Moving to the toilet was another test of will. If she was to get her underclothes off, she would have to at least be seated somewhere. She sank down on the cool porcelain lid and slowly, carefully, removed her bra, suddenly aware of what precious little she had been wearing when she had made her way over here with the doctor. Her bra and panties were a light grey (they'd been white when she'd found them) and were adorned with black frills and lace trims. The soft fabric was opaque in most places, but entirely transparent in... Others. She cringed, gnawing on the inside of her lip as she slid her panties down her legs, trying to convince herself that if parading around in her less-than-concealing lingerie in front of an old man was the worst of her problems, then things couldn't be all that bad. Besides, she'd done worse. A _lot _worse. And probably with older men than him.

She moved to the bathtub, surprised at how it shone proudly, free from a single trace of dirt. She even found herself smiling as she twisted both taps, watching with amusement as the water poured out, crystalline and clear. After a moment steam began to rise. "Hot water," she mumbled. "Pretty sure I've seen that about twice in my whole damned life."

Straightening herself, she glanced around the small room, wondering how to preoccupy herself with the bath was running. And then it struck her.

"Guess now's as good a time as any…"

Ah, the mirror. Dammit, the time would have to come sooner or later when she had to finally see what the damage was. And yet she found herself scared of what might be waiting there in her reflection. So terrified that it took her a moment to realise that she was only staring at the running water without any intention of moving. _Alright, alright. _She took a few steps back, turning to grip the edges of the sink for support. Slowly, she lifted her head and looked into the mirror, only to find her own face staring back at her. Thankfully.

The doctor had cleared the caked blood from her right eye, but it remained rimmed with spots of blue and yellow. It was a struggle to keep it open. Other than that, and the crimson-stained bandage around the left side of her head, her face looked no different from usual. She traced her cheek carefully with her fingers, just to make sure it was real. Her cheekbones where as high and pronounced as they always had been, and her jawline was only lightly bruised, probably from when her attackers had knocked her unconscious. Her nose was very much the same, long and pointed with the lightest hint of freckles spread across it. Her right eye was the same deep shade of brown, still almond-shaped, with a nicely arched brow to top it off. Her hair was matted and tangled, but remained familiar in its raven shade and lightest hint of wave. _Normal,_ she thought, sighing with relief. Maybe she had seen better days, but she still fancied herself to be pretty damned sexy.

But there _was _the bandage to consider. And the bullet hole. Hesitantly, she lightly pressed two fingers against the bandaged side of her skull, expecting to feel at least a soft depression where the bullet had torn away the bone and skin. Instead she found... Nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary, anyway, much to her relief. Somehow the doctor had managed to restore her skull, leaving her with nothing but perhaps a small scar. Or at least she hoped so. Still, that would make it even harder to repay him, and she never did like owing people.

The thought was soon shaken from her head, however, when she glanced at the bathtub and found it full of hot, steaming water. Her heart fluttered, and for the first time since her eyes had opened she actually felt awake. _Alive._ The bath was a small thing to look forward to, but it was a damn blessing nonetheless. With a final satisfied glance in the mirror, she moved towards the tub and slowly stepped in, cursing in pain when her feet touched the hot water. After a few moments of uncertainty, she lowered herself in, soon adjusting to the steamy temperature and sighing away the aching of her muscles as she twisted the taps, stopping the relaxing flow of water and leaving her with blissful silence. The heat was perfect; every ache and sting seemed to dissipate with the rising steam. It was perfect.

It was hard resisting the urge to dunk her head down into the water. She would _kill _for the chance to rinse away the grease and grime that clung to her hair, but it was enough for now to simply lie back and soak. She couldn't stay at rest for long, though. She knew that. There was still the pressing issue of, well… She'd been shot in the head. It was as simple as that, really. She wasn't sure just how much she could remember, and she wasn't even entirely certain of who she was yet. It was time to start piecing everything together.

A man in a chequered suit had shot her. That much, at least, was obvious. But _why? _Okay, she'd been carrying a package. From the, uh… Mojave Express. That was it. She'd left New Vegas to go to Primm, pick it up, and return to Vegas again to deliver it to Mister House. That was what had happened, right?

_Yes._

Memories began to flicker behind her eyes, forming themselves in the steam that rose around her. She saw herself in Vegas. _Lights, music, satin sheets. Faceless men, leather skirt, spilled drinks. _She'd come from the South. Won big at the tables. Got the shit kicked out of her by some thugs. _Broken, lost, drinking, dancing, strange men, empty purse. _They'd stolen from her. Taken everything. Left her flat broke, willing to do anything for the money to go back home and sort herself out. A _private escort, _they had told her, _that's all we want. _Most folks just called her a whore. And she was. Or she had been. That was before the job had come up. Her name was still down on the courier list, and the money was big. _You're Courier Six, right? Sure don't look like much of a, uh... Wasteland type. Need you to head down to the Mojave Express in Primm, alright? Job's simple. Take your package, deliver it back here. You'll know where to go, don't worry._

And that had been her ticket out of Vegas. The exact details of the job were foggy, but she'd been told enough to know - or at least guess - that it wasn't regular work. Six couriers had been sent out to the same place, herself included. Five would be carrying junk, and one would hold the important stuff. Whatever that was.

_It's a poker chip, darlin'._

Hell, that was right. A platinum poker chip. That's what they'd given her, and that's what had been taken. But what the hell would anybody do with that? Platinum wasn't worth dirt nowadays. And that didn't explain the necessity of five other couriers either. _No, _she thought, _there's something more than that. _How did her killer know where she'd be, and who she was? And there were thugs too, she remembered, in leathers. Khans, perhaps. The whole thing had been organised somehow. Set up. Maybe the guy didn't know if had actually been her carrying the valuable item. She herself didn't even know for certain if she had been. So it had been a guess. Or maybe he'd already killed all the others before her, starting with Courier One. But that didn't make sense. Why the _fuck _would anybody go to those lengths to steal a piece of-

_And this little thing... It's gonna change the whole world._

Right. That's what he'd said, in that disgustingly cold voice. But what could a platinum poker chip do? It could be a key, she guessed, or a holotape. Or maybe the guy was a raving lunatic. She had no way of knowing. It had been against her contract to screw around with the package, anyway. Besides, it wasn't like she had cared much about it at the time. It hadn't been anything but a job.

Gnawing her lip, she ran her fingers through the tangles in her hair, shutting her eyes and blowing out a sigh. She had to do _something,_ dammit! That job would mean huge money for her. But it was more than that. The guy had tried to _kill _her. She'd been shot, dumped, and buried under a pile of sand. That bastard, whoever he was, had quickly made things personal by not getting the job done right. But how would she even go about finding him? By the sound of his voice, she judged that he was a New Vegas type. She remembered carefully styled hair, an ornate pistol, and of course, the flashy suit. But he'd be long gone by now. Maybe she'd already lost her chance.

She lay in the bathtub until the water grew cold, after scrubbing every reachable inch of herself with a bar of soap, not content until even the dirt underneath her fingernails was washed away. With a groan, she yanked the plug out and slowly stood up, spying a towel hanging from a rack by the sink. She reached out for it, her hand just brushing against the fabric before something snapped in her brain, and her vision went black. She stumbled, almost toppling straight out of the bathtub before she regained her balance. Her head swam; it was a struggle to even keep her eyes open. "Must be the damn steam," she grunted, reaching for the towel and pulling it towards her. It didn't take long for her to dry herself off and wrap the damp towel around her shivering body. The problem was looking around and finding that she had no clothes other than her discarded underwear.

And then she found the small blue pile sitting by the door. A jumpsuit, folded up with a pair of black boots and socks sitting neatly on top. She eyed them narrowly, stepping out of the bath and moving to pick up the blue outfit, the towel still loosely tucked underneath her arm. She took the garment by the ends, gave it a light shake, and watched as it unfolded before her, revealing a lightly wrinkled blue jumpsuit. Upon turning it over, she found that a large number twenty-one was printed in bold, yellow lettering on the back. A vault jumpsuit. The doctor had mentioned a vault before, she remembered. And yet she still flinched when she saw it. Vault jumpsuits brought bad memories. But that didn't stop her from putting it on, if not somewhat reluctantly.

The clothes _did_ fit, being only a little tight around the leg and chest areas. She put on the socks and clunky black boots, and took another moment to eye her reflection, seeing that her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the bath, and a sheen of sweat glistened on her brow. All the signs of a healthy, living person. That was a change. She left the place with a noticeable spring in her step, obviously relieved that she had survived her own murder with only minor injuries. Soon the pain in her head would dull and fade, and she could finally go about finding that scumbag Benny.

She froze in her tracks, half-way out of the bathroom.

_Benny._

"That… That's it," she realised, voicing her own joy aloud. "That's his name." She couldn't waste another second. She called for the doctor, speeding down the hallway and peering through every door she passed until she found him sitting at the kitchen table, a mug in one hand. The steaming coffee filled the room with its rejuvenating scent. Mitchell looked at her quizzically, probably hiding alarm at his patient's frantic expression. He opened his mouth to question her but was quickly interrupted.

"A man named Benny. Gelled hair, chequered suit. Know anything?"

The doctor looked at her blankly for a moment. "This is about-"

"The guy that shot me. _Do you know him?"_

He scowled. "Now, girlie, if you wanna get better I would suggest that you don't go runnin' round askin' too many questions, alright? 'Least not for a while. I didn't see him, and I would certainly not advise-" He paused, and Brianna watched his shoulders slump in defeat. "Fine, fine. Might as well go out and ask some folks in the town. I'm sure old Victor'll know something, at least. Be good to get you out for some fresh air, clear your head a little bit."

She considered that for a moment. As much as she would love to stretch her legs and take in some much-needed fresh air, she had no desire to meet anybody else in Goodsprings. She already owed the doctor her life – a debt which she had no intention of ever repaying - and the blonde, chirpy Sunny Smiles was already expecting her to fight off a gang of dynamite-lobbing thugs. The less she came into contact with these people, the better. On the other hand, though, she would kill for a drink right about now. What she wouldn't do for an ice-cold beer...

"Sounds great!" She forced a grin. "Be nice to get to know everyone!"

"Good, good..." The doctor said, seemingly distracted as he eyed Brianna's jumpsuit wistfully. _Thing must belong to his wife or something, _she figured. Well she sure hoped that longing look in his eyes was out of missing her. Otherwise she'd be heading out the door with a little extra speed in her step.

* * *

It wasn't much of a town, really. Just a number of shoddy, dilapidated buildings dotted around a wide stretch of nowhere. The doctor's wooden bungalow was situated high atop a hill overlooking the town. From here she could see a few grassless pastures - mostly separating most of the houses from each other. About half a dozen young bighorners grazed on the dry grass. Illuminated by the faint, silvery rays of moonlight, the houses themselves looked inhabited but barely maintained, although most still stood upright, which was highly unusual even for such a small town. Each claimed their own twisted, rusty mailbox containing assorted junk. Brianna was drawn to the buildings further in the distance, ugly brown things with light spilling out from their windows. The largest building boasted a flickering sign which served to let passers-by know that it was a _'Pro Loon'_. From what she could make out, one of the actual words was something close to _'saloon',_ so she made a beeline for it.

The walk was quiet, and the cool night air sent a chill running down Brianna's spine. It rejuvenated her, made her feel awake. For the first time in days - no, in months - she felt alive. Like she had some sort of purpose.

Not a sound came from the saloon as she approached it. That was to be expected, she supposed. It was a small town after all, consisting of mainly farmers judging by the furry bighorners that roamed around unattended to graze on whatever clumps of grass they could find. At least the place wouldn't be crowded. She could use a little more alone time.

The creature was on her before the door had fully creaked open. Covered in thick, coarse fur and pressing a weight of at least twenty pounds against her chest, the thing bowled her over before she could even shut the door behind her. Its breath was hot and rancid against her face, its teeth mere inches from her skin. Its low, guttural growl rang in her ears as a wave of dizziness swept over her.

"Cheyenne, back!" A woman ordered. Suddenly, the weight was lifted from her chest and she could breathe again. Flat on her back on the floor, she had to stop for a moment to breathe before clambering to her feet, brushing herself off and leaning against the door to steady herself.

"Oh my god, I am so so_ soooo_ sorry!"

She didn't need to look up to know that the voice belonged to Sunny Smiles. Setting her sarsaparilla aside, the blonde called for her dog, which padded over to her with a happy bark and wagging tail.

"What the hell?!" Brianna snapped, looking at the shorter woman in annoyance.

She earned an apologetic look in reply. "I'm _so_ sorry, but... Maybe you should have knocked..."

Brianna blinked, incredulous. "It's a fucking _saloon!_ I should expect to be able to come in here and buy a god damn drink without almost being mauled by a fucking _dog. _What the hell?!"

"Hey, look, I..." Sunny's voice was deeply apologetic – it would have been enough to make anyone but Brianna feel sickeningly guilty. "I really am sorry, alright? Cheyenne's a big sweetheart, but she's protective, and she's never seen you before. I think she got a little scared."

"It's fine," she grumbled, not sure how to continue. If she was nice to Sunny Smiles, then the woman might want to be friends with her. If not, she would end up with her name on another person's shit list and without anybody to pay for her drink. "I'm just a little cranky. Got shot in the head after all," she laughed. "And I wouldn't have stood a chance against that death machine."

Sunny's expression brightened immediately. "No problem! And don't worry - she won't bite unless I tell her to." She seemed proud as she scratched the dog's ears, the creature still growling softly and keeping her eyes trained on the intruder.

"I'll keep that in mind," Brianna smiled, scanning the room absently. The actual bar, she assumed, would be found in the larger room beyond the open door to her left. Now she was standing in a rather bare-looking room, containing only a few chairs and a pool table. She was alone but for the bubbly woman and her canine sidekick.

"So now that you're on your feet again - and I am super glad that you are - how do you fancy taking me up on my offer?"

_Offer?_ Oh, yeah. Wasteland survival or something like that. Stupid and unnecessary of course, but she wasn't sure how good her co-ordination would be after her 'little injury'. She even considered that her sight might be impaired. Shooting up a few beer bottles would be a good way to pass the time too. And it was a good opportunity for sweet talking, perhaps. She was getting thirstier and thirstier as each second ticked away.

"Guess it couldn't hurt." She shrugged. "What do you have in mind?"

"Just follow me," Sunny grinned, skipping past Brianna and out the door with the mutt following closely at her heels.

* * *

Needless to say, Sunny's garden did not live up to its name. Other than a few dying patches of weeds and shrubbery dotted here and there, the small strip of land consisted of nothing else but sand and dirt, separated from the rest of the town by an old picket fence, its white paint peeling off in long strips to reveal the rotten wood beneath. A long wooden bench had been placed at the end of the so-called 'garden', supporting a neat little row of empty sarsaparilla bottles.

"Doesn't look like you're quite packing heat," Sunny remarked, trekking across the miserable little garden to retrieve her hunting rifle. The thing was lying on the ground as if it had been thrown there absently and left to lie overnight. It looked like a Winchester, but Brianna didn't know for certain. Really, she'd never cared about the finer details of the weapons she used. If it could be used to blow a head off or slice off a limb, then that would suit her just fine.

"Here, you can borrow this. Hasn't seen any action for a while."

She took the rifle, taking a moment to feel its shape and weight before moving it comfortably under her arm. As far as she could tell, the thing was used mainly for hunting small critters. It would be useless against an actual opponent, especially one with a tendency to shoot back at her. And hunting rifles had never been quite her style. Pistols and assault rifles, that's what she lived for. Guns that worked quickly, without requiring constant reloading. _'Shoot 'em in the midsection and try not to die'_ was her method for attack, and the most effective in her opinion.

"Yeah, sure." She eyed the bench for a moment before crouching down and aiming the rifle. The bottles wouldn't be moving anywhere in a hurry, so she could probably spend a little time lining up her shot. Hopefully they wouldn't start shooting back at her.

"Cobb's been sending his little gang out to patrol the town. Powder Gangers, they call themselves. Not much reason behind it; I think they're just trying to unnerve us enough that we freak out and... Well, you know the story. Poor Ringo's still hiding up there, scared out of his mind." Sunny sighed. "I just wanna help him…"

Brianna sensed that Sunny was talking more to herself than anyone else, so she ignored her mumbling. Taking a deep breath, she lined up the shot, struggling to keep her aim steady. Happy finger on the trigger. _Check._ Clicking off the safety. _Check._ Now to fire...

Now to… Pull the trigger…

Just pull the trigger…

_Pull the…_

_Get this, pussycat... The game was rigged from the start._

She released an audible gasp, her grip loosening enough for the hunting rifle to fall to the ground. Her arms erupted in goosebumps and her eyes widened in alarm as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

_She had heard his voice in her head._

Her body was stiff for a moment until she regained her bearings. She felt Cheyenne nuzzling her side, the dog's long, wet tongue licking at her hand. She took it away quickly, grabbing the gun again.

"Hey, are you alright?" Sunny asked. "You're white as a sheet."

"Fine," she replied quickly, lining up another shot. _Okay._ She could do this. The sights were lined up, now all she had to do was...

She fired, the recoil slamming against her shoulder and taking her slightly off-guard. But she was fine. Of course she was fine. _I'm shooting sarsaparilla bottles for fuck sake._

Sunny beamed as the bottle fell with a soft 'clink'. "Nice shot! Maybe I'll even by you a drink if you hit three in a row. Be careful when you're pulling the trigger, though. You have to be gentle with it - don't jerk it. And try to aim for the neck next time too. The gravity should pull it down as it moves, so you'll be a lot more accurate. At least, that's what I learned from..." She trailed off. _Strange._

Still, Brianna lined up the next shot at the bottle's neck, squinting one eye, and exerting a steady force on the trigger until it went off with a _bang_. The bottle flew off the bench and cracked against the wall behind before landing softly on the ground.

Brianna looked expectantly at Sunny after every bottle on the bench had been shot down. She had only missed once when the gun had misfired. The thing really was a piece of shit, little more than a pellet gun for all the strength in its shots. Still, Sunny looked impressed as she took her gun back and swung it over her shoulder.

"Great shooting, sweetie!" The woman chimed, extending a hand for Brianna to pull herself up from her crouching position. God, the 'sweetie' thing was getting on her nerves already. Sunny couldn't have been more than twenty-five, and Brianna herself was only a few years younger. And yet it sounded as of Sunny Smiles was her grandmother with her false, cheery tone. Or at least, she assumed it was false. How the hell could anybody be so happy living in this miserable little down with only a dog for company?

She got to her feet, ignoring Sunny's extended hand and quite pleased with all she had accomplished so far. Her headache was still thumping ceaselessly, but certainly not strongly enough to cause a huge amount of discomfort. Damned, then, if she didn't deserve a beer.

"C'mon, I still owe you a drink, right? And I bet Trudy's dying to meet you."

* * *

She wasn't. From the moment the pair entered the 'Prospector's Saloon' all conversations fell silent, and every eye was on her. Brianna narrowed her eyes at a young woman in a straw hat who looked at her with astonished eyes. She supposed it made sense that people would be intrigued by her. Dying to bombard her with questions, probably.

... Or not.

The bar was almost entirely deserted except for a couple of locals playing a card game, and a straw hatted old man enjoying a whiskey in the corner of the room. The barmaid, presumably Trudy, was wiping a glass from behind the bar, shooting an irritated glance in Brianna's direction. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, too pale to be Hispanic, although she did look it, with short black hair and purple cardigan mostly covering a white dress.

Brianna slowly made her way to the counter, her footsteps ringing out as she moved to seat herself atop one of the bar stools. Every one was empty, so she could take her pick. She looked at the sour faced barmaid expectantly for a moment, who gave no response but a hateful glare. After a moment Brianna finally spoke. "I'll have a beer. Sunny's covering it," she said, seeing the blonde woman seat herself next to her. Cheyenne stood close by in her usual protective stance.

The atmosphere went from awkward to hostile in a matter of seconds. The barmaid slammed her hands on the counter and leaned forwards until her face was inches from Brianna's own. "You listen to me," she spat, her voice wavering but otherwise cold and filled with contempt. "I don't _want_ you here. This little town has had enough trouble lately, and we certainly don't need a stranger like yourself to come waltzing in with more funny business."

Brianna lifted an eyebrow. "Funnily enough," she retorted, "I was a little too close to _death_ to come waltzing in anywhere."

"You best get out of my saloon and get out of this god damned town right and quick, missy," the woman warned. "Because by the looks of you, you're nothin' but trouble. Now I don't know what happened up there on that hill but-"

"Exactly. You _don't_ know," Brianna snapped. "And I'm gonna tell you just where we stand. I'm a courier, and I'm thirsty. _You _are a barmaid. So why in the ever-loving _fuck _haven't you brought me a drink yet?"

That hit a soft spot. Brianna could see it in the woman's eyes. "You ungrateful little bitch!" She screamed suddenly. "Givin' this town even more grief than it deserves! Mitchell spent every night making sure you didn't _die,_ and Sunny's been all too good with her little shooting lessons, waltzing in here and babbling on and on about you. I'd say some people here are a little too trusting of..." She paused for a dramatic effect. "People like _you."_

Brianna stood up, placing both palms flat on the table and hearing Sunny hissing her name quietly in protest. "And who exactly are people like me, pray tell?" Her voice was as icy as the venom in her eyes.

For a moment she didn't think that the barmaid would continue. After a brief hesitation she answered, "People like you who would get caught up in all kinds of funny business. Drink, chems, money... I can see it all on you. People like you would gladly walk in here and burn this place down just for the sheer damn hell of it!"

"Who the fuck do you think you are?!" Brianna screamed, not attempting to hide her anger any longer. Her muscles were tense and her heart raced, sending waves of blood pounding through her head with roaring intensity. She ignored the pain. "You don't know a damn thing about me!"

"I know that Cobb hired you!" The woman screamed in reply, her voice trembling to betray her fear. "That's exactly what you want, isn't it?! You want to- to gain our trust and then... And then... And then..." Tears spilled down the woman's cheeks. "You're gonna kill us all! Please! Just leave us alone!"

Brianna blinked, taken aback by the sudden outburst of emotion as Sunny quickly got to her feet and slid over the counter to meet the now sobbing woman. "Trudy, sweetie..." Sunny shushed the crying barmaid, putting an arm around her shoulder and giving her a reassuring squeeze. "Shh, it's okay. She's a friend, alright? Calm down... No one's gonna hurt you, okay?"

* * *

She couldn't leave the damned place quickly enough. A wailing barmaid, a roaring headache and an ice-cold beer so far out of reach... It was too much for her. She slammed the door behind her and walked until she could no longer hear the sobbing. Whatever that fucking barmaid's problem was, Brianna didn't want to know. It wasn't her place to get involved and she honestly did not _care_. There were more important things on her mind, anyway.

The cemetery loomed high in the distance, blotting out the neon lights of Vegas that buzzed so far away. That was where she'd been shot. She recognised it immediately, even from a distance. Now would be as good a time as any to head on up there. Actually, she wasn't entirely sure what the journey would achieve, but she couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that she should go up there. And it was better than returning to the doctor's house.

She continued to walk, gnawing on the inside of her lip until she reached the base of the hill. That was when she began to hear noises. A distant whirring of some sort, and then the sound of a tire rolling over asphalt. She frowned, her right hand tensing on her thigh for the pistol that wasn't there. The robot soon came into view.

"Well, howdy partner!" The machine drawled, its tinny voice simulating a lazy, southern drawl to match the cartoon cowboy face printed on its screen. It wheeled over to her with all the grace of a mobilized refrigerator. A motorized television would be more accurate, Brianna supposed, watching as the thing wheeled closer.

"Who the hell are you?" She snapped. _No sense in being nice to something that's made from scrap metal.__  
_

"Cowboy Victor, at your service!" The robot exclaimed, only serving to creep her out even further with that stupid cowboy accent.

"Victor, huh?" The name was familiar. Doc Mitchell had said something about a guy named Victor. He hadn't specified whether or not he was human, but she supposed that didn't matter. If this was the 'stupid drawlin' moron' that the doctor had told her about, then it had valuable information for her.

"You didn't, uh, dig me out of a grave by any chance, did you?"

"Indeed I did, little trail hand!" The robot replied. "And might I say you're lookin' fit as a fiddle!"

"Yeah, whatever. Look, I need to know exactly what you saw that night, got it?"

"Sure thing, partner!" God, that annoyingly cheerful voice was already getting on her nerves. "Saw you and Fancy Pants up on that hill with a number of other shifty buckaroos. Fancy pants waved his gun around and clean shot you in the head!"

"Wow. No kidding."

"Anyway, I wheeled on over there right and quick to see what the damage was. Fancy Pants and his friends had already skedaddled, and they didn't do a very good job of fillin' in the dirt over ya. Looked like they were in a hurry."

"Fancy Pants? The man in the chequered suit, right?"

"Sure as lack o' rain, partner!"

"Did you see where he was going?" She pressed. "Or any time before? Did he ever show up here, say anything to you?"

"Well it's funny that you'd ask, partner. See, I saw him skulking around here a little while before you nearly kicked the bucket. Asking questions, I'd reckon. Probably lookin' to see where you were, where you were goin' and all that. 'Course, you'd never popped your head in before, so he didn't hear much."

That made sense. She'd taken the package from Primm and was spending the night in one of the casinos, keeping herself out of sight. She'd left in the middle of the night after rumours of a shooting, and that was when Benny had shot her, just as she was on her way to Goodsprings.

"Huh. That's interesting. Thanks." She hurried off, not caring to spend another second with the cheery, talking television set.

* * *

The walk damn near killed her. Her head was pounding fiercely by the time she'd reached the hill's summit, and the muscles of her legs were aching. A number of times she had almost passed out or had to resist the urge to vomit violently. Still, she made her way to the hilltop in the space of about ten minutes, and the night was dark. The moon loomed ominously over the hill, declaring midnight. It cast a silvery glow over the graves ahead, each one covered by a mound of dirt, surrounded by rocks and guarded by a wooden cross. Except for one.

After a few more steps she found her own grave. She had half expected the sight to evoke some kind of emotion from her, but it sent nothing but an icy chill down her spine. She hugged herself tightly, suddenly feeling the biting cold against her face as she looked down upon her grave. There were still clumps of sand dumped around it, along with a few brown splatters. She knew in her gut that it was blood. Her blood.

"If it wasn't for that stupid robot…"

It was the lighter that first drew her attention away from the grave beneath her feet, flashing silver in the corner of her vision. With a frown, she moved to pick it up, holding it up against the moonlight to inspect it. It was pretty ornate for a lighter, she supposed, probably expensive. So he _was_ a New Vegas type, maybe from one of the Families. Or he'd stolen the suit and hair gel too, and he was no better than the Khans that had been working for him. But that was all she could deduce from it. If she found the bullet casing, however…

Her eyes had to scan the ground intently for a while before she found it lying there, almost completely covered in sand. She wasted no time scooping it up, squinting her eyes to read the engravings marked on it. A nine millimetre Parabellum. _Sweet fucking irony_. In her days travelling east she had picked up a few Latin words from the Legion and those who lived around it. On her off days she had read some books too. So of course she recognized the translation of the word 'Parabellum'.

_To seek peace, you must prepare for war._

She tucked the thing into her pocket with clenched teeth. If she ever needed proof of what that sick bastard had done to her, this was it. If the healing hole in her head wasn't enough, of course.

She didn't feel like going back to Mitchell's. She'd spent enough time there, lying in her own filth and listening to the doctor pester her with questions and rattle off stories of his shitty old vault. Unfortunately, she didn't know of another place that would offer her the same hospitality as the doctor had. Especially not the saloon, which had been her only hope of a free drink. Or at least something at a reasonable discount. But there was no more chance of her ever sweet-talking the barmaid into such favours. Not after what had happened, anyway.

Still, Sunny did owe her a drink.


	4. Broken Bottles

**GOODSPRINGS**

**JULY 17**

**01:32**

"You didn't! You _didn't!" _The old man guffawed, slapping a wrinkled hand down on the table as his shoulders shook with laughter. Unbeknownst to him, the contents of his last bottle had already been spilled over his lap, and his straw hat had somehow found its way across the bar, leaving nothing to conceal the shiny baldness of his head. Since this was the second time he'd asked Brianna to tell the story, and the second time he had almost pissed himself with laughter upon hearing it, the prospector was, she concluded, completely off his face with drink and thus had no reason to care.

"Sure did!" The courier grinned from across the table, kicking her feet up and tipping her head back for a long drink before she could continue. "Shot his balls _clean_ off before he could take another step! Poor bastard never knew what hit him!" She laughed, perfectly happy to relive her hilarious first sniping lesson. Besides, it was only her third drink, anyway, not anything to be overly concerned about. No... No her fourth drink... Or fifth... No... No wait... She'd done those shots... _Pffft, whatever. I aimn't drunnk._

Another chorus of laughter erupted from the bar, and she noticed then that everybody seemed to be listening in on the conversation she was having with the drunken old man. Since she had arrived again from the hilltop, in fact, word had spread quickly about her recovery, and most folks wanted to know exactly what had happened to her underneath the stirring rumours of the shooting. She didn't want to tell the story and had absolutely no intention of ever doing so, but the locals didn't seem to mind. A cheap joke or two and a few bottles later, everyone was having the time of their lives. Well, except for Trudy who served their drinks in sullen silence, chuckling to herself at the occasional lame joke.

Excluding the surly barmaid, the residents of Goodsprings proven themselves to be surprisingly good drinking buddies after they'd knocked back a few, if not somewhat indistinguishable from each other in the way that they dressed. In straw hats and blue overalls, no one particularly stood out, with the exception of one or two. The cackling old man in blue denim who sat across from Brianna called himself 'Easy Pete', because he was a prospector. She wasn't sure how the name and profession were linked, but no one else seemed to care. Along with him she had met Chet, a gun nut who apparently owned the general goods store next door. He'd spoken to her once - something about a semi-automatic pistol - before moving to the end of the bar to enjoy a 'cigarette' by himself. The foggy green haze surrounding him suggested otherwise, so she made a mental note to join him again before the night was over.

Eventually it seemed as if most of Goodsprings had stopped in for a drink. Well, everyone except for Doc Mitchell, of course. The old man would probably kick her out on her ass if she returned to his office completely smashed, but she could easily pull off a hangover and call it a headache. Besides, Easy Pete was ordering bottles of whiskey by the dozen, and he didn't seem to notice who was drinking them, so what was the problem? _Just had some anywaay. Little tips... Tipsy... Tippseeeee. Ha._

"Hey, sweetie?" Sunny's voice was just audible as the laughter died down and people returned to their own conversations again. She was sitting right next to Brianna in the booth, leaning over the table with her elbows propped up on it. "Don't you think you should be heading back now? It's late; you should go get some rest." She smiled.

Brianna rolled her eyes and laughed. "_Noo. _I'm not drunk yet, grandma." She stretched over the table and grabbed a half-empty bottle of beer from under the oblivious prospector's nose as he chuckled absently to himself. After tipping her head back and draining what little remained from the bottom, she turned to Sunny again. "Just gimme a minute, alright?"

"Hun, you gotta think of your health, okay? Y'know, you almost _died. _If I were you, I'd try to rest up as much as possible if you wanna recover fully." Breathing a light sigh, she glanced around the bar for a moment before turning to look at Brianna with concern. "You don't have a... A problem, do you? With your drinking? Because you know Doc Mitchell can help you if you if you ask?"

She groaned loudly, sitting herself upright and swinging her legs down from the table. She slammed the bottle down, and turned to the blonde. "_You_ are not my fucking mother_, _alright?! I don't even... I don't even _know _you! Why the fuck should you care about me anyway?!"

It was as if her words had driven a dagger through Sunny's gut. The expression on her face was one of genuine, wide-eyed sadness, and Brianna couldn't be sure why. She had talked enough to the woman over the course of the night, and there wasn't much about her that stood out in any way. Her brain was still foggy and clouded and... _What did she say before...? Protector of Goodsprings... Hates geckoes... Dead family... Loves sarsaparilla... _Maybe there was something there...

"I just want to help you," she replied gingerly, her voice barely audible over the crackling radio. "That's... That's what I do, okay? It doesn't... It doesn't get me anywhere and it never has, I know that, but..." She shook her head, pursing her lips tightly before continuing, her voice fused with steel. "No. I'm just trying to help you and... You're being an asshole! Ever since you got here I've shown nothing but kindness, and yet you continue to-"

"Oh, shut the _fuuuck _up," Brianna groaned. "Like I give a _shit _about-"

The words were barely out of her mouth before another voice shot stabbing pains through her skull. "You, _enough! _Out!"

_Oh, for the love of..._

Trudy swiped the bottle away from her lips before she could take another drink. Looking up, she found the surly barmaid glowering down at her, arms folded. She seemed to have recovered from whatever psychotic episode had brought her to tears in the first place, but that only served to make her more pissed off with the loud-mouthed newcomer that had caused it. Moving back from where Brianna was sitting and drawing herself up like an indignant mother hen, she looked at Brianna expectantly, one eyebrow raised in a smug challenge. _What the hell is wrong with this bitch?_

Gritting her teeth, Brianna slowly got to her feet, all while glaring at the older woman and trying to subtly hold onto the chair behind her in case another headache came on. The corners of her vision were blurry, and her blood raced with adrenaline as she moved closer to the barmaid in an obvious challenge. Her entire body _ached_ with the desire to put a bullet between this woman's eyes.

The barmaid smirked, eyeing her with a look of haughty disdain. She cleared her throat and nodded towards the door, arms folded. _"Well?"_

The blow nearly threw the woman off her feet as Brianna's palm _cracked _against her cheek. With a scream of anger, she raked the woman's face with her nails, deaf to the commotion that was now going on around her as people began to realise what was happening. Trudy's eyes widened in alarm, her bleeding face a mask of poorly hidden disbelief. She staggered, muscles trembling as she attempted to regain her footing. The bar grew still, hushed in anticipation. With a smirk, Brianna slowly turned to exit the bar in all of her staggering triumph.

An invisible force from behind grabbed the collar of her jumpsuit and threw her sideways against the bar table. There was screaming and silence as she collided with the hardwood, ribs cracking and bile rising in her throat. Her vision swam and her head span and everything, everything was a blur...

Somehow she managed to regain her footing just as another blow collided with the left side of her head. The fireflies zipping behind her eyes exploded into stars, consuming what remained of her doubling vision. The persistent ringing in her ears swelled into a piercing scream, deafening her to the sound of her body hitting the floor with a thud. Her stomach heaved and she was greeted again by the bitter taste of alcohol as she retched, feeling the liquid rise up her throat and dribble out of her mouth. She wanted to _stand... _ The pain was excruciating, the only thing she could focus on, if she was focusing on anything at all. It was fire, searing away her body and eating at her consciousness until she was blissfully unaware of Trudy's foot smashing down on her spine.

It was all a blur from then. A screaming voice begging for Trudy to stop. Being yanked to her feet. Another blow, colliding with the right side of her jaw and whipping her head in the opposite direction. Bones cracking. The taste of blood on her tongue as she staggered, barely managing to keep herself upright as she leaned herself against the bar. Everything was spinning. The screaming voices were all too far away...

_Far away..._

Far away, she felt an iron grip on her shoulders as she was driven from the saloon, a shrieking voice in the distance vociferating angry curses and demanding that she never return. She struggled to make sense of what was happening until she was lying on her face outside the bar with nothing but cold, dry sand to greet her.

"Huh..." She managed, struggling to brush the dirt and hair out of her face. Hell, it was a struggle to even keep her eyes open at this point. The pain in her head had swelled to a strong, piercing agony where Trudy's fist had connected with her temple, narrowly missing the healing stitches, but colliding with the scar tissue that lay beneath her blood-stained bandages.

It took some effort, but after a few minutes of drifting in and out of consciousness she managed to pull herself up onto her feet, thinking only of a warm bed and a stimpak to ease the pain. She didn't know how well stims mixed with alcohol, but... _Whatever. _At least she was out of that damned place.

She groaned, rubbing her eyes and taking her first wobbly step towards Doc Mitchell's. The cold air lightened her mood by a great deal. It felt heavenly on her face, taking the stinging edge away from the throbbing in her jaw. It even managed to sober her up just enough so that she wasn't crawling back to the doctor's house. In fact, in a moment of clear-headedness, she managed to spot a dark figure just out of the corner of her eye...

"The hell?" She slurred to no one, taking a few more shaky steps to get a clear view of whatever it was she was looking at, a struggle with wobbling vision. On the hill, just ahead and a short distance away from the doctor's house, was an old gas station displaying the Poseidon Gas logo. She could just make out a shadow emerging from the door of the dilapidated building, the faintest outline of a person. A man, she guessed.

Brianna's right hand tensed on her thigh, the other holding her aching head. She began to take a step closer towards the gas station, but quickly decided against it. As much as she would _love _to confront a mysterious figure with a pounding headache and her blood swimming in alcohol on a freezing cold night after getting her head kicked in... There would be other opportunities.

_"Freeze!"_

Aw, shit. With an eye roll and a long sigh, she watched as the stranger slowly moved towards her, soon becoming visible as he stepped out into the moonlight. He looked harmless enough, probably-

In a quick, rehearsed movement, the man was behind her. A soft _click _and cold metal was forcefully shoved against her left temple, right on top of the fresh scar. Obviously her head hadn't suffered enough. And any thought of self-defence had been blown right out of the water.

"Kindly don't move, missy, or I _will_ shoot you." The quiver in his voice betrayed his fear, as much as he tried to sound threatening. "You ain't one of those powder fucks, are ya? Don't lie!"

After smirking and shooting a clever retort, Brianna swept a foot under the stranger's legs, knocking him swiftly to the ground before planting her boot in his face.

... Or not.

Those had been her intentions, at least, until she realised that she was only playing out the scenario in her head while standing still, frozen in place. She could barely raise her voice to anything above a whisper as the icy metal pressed harder against her skull. "Put the fucking... Put the gun away..."

"You'd best answer me right now, miss, and we'll see how things turn out, alright?"

"Jesus, what the fuck do you want from me?!"

"You're working with Cobb, aren't you? You one of his whores?"

_Cobb? _"What?!" She shrieked. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about! I just got shot in the head, Jesus, fuck- Just get the hell away from me, alright?! _Just put the gun away!"_

There was a long, decisive moment of silence. Brianna's vision swam; she could feel blood and adrenaline surging around her body, and her head was torn between tipsy confusion and sharp awareness. She just wanted that gun far, far away from her.

"Wait a second." The stranger moved to face her directly, still aiming the gun at her head, but with a visible air of uncertainty now. "You... You're _her._ You're that woman. The one... But you're..."

"Dead? Not quite." Her voice trembled a little more audibly with every word.

"But... Jesus, you-"

"Yes, I got shot in the fucking head!" She snapped. "You gonna make me relive that experience? But Jesus _fucking _Christ, I am drunk and I am angry and if you're gonna shoot me, make sure you shoot me dead. I already have one asshole to track down because he couldn't get the job done right."

He swallowed, looking at her for a moment of brief indecision before lowering the pistol and return it to its holster. "Sorry about that. I'm a little on edge, in case you couldn't tell." She could. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with dark lines, constantly darting around the area as if searching for something in the distance, and never stopping to meet her own for long. "And I'm getting real tired of lookin' for shadows."

"Yeah, well I'm real tired of getting threatened by assholes with pistols, so don't go telling me about your problems." She began to move away from him, ready to fall into the rickety bed back at Doc Mitchell's and sleep away her headache and irritation. Whoever this guy was, she couldn't care less. She had her own issues to deal with.

The man let out a short, cynical laugh and slowly moved to join her, stuffing one hand in the pocket of his jeans and keeping the other tense on the butt of his gun. "Look, missy, I _am_ sorry," he insisted. "It's getting real hard to sit comfortably with those Powder Gangers skulking around here, and you _did _strike me as a-"

"Whore?"

His face burned crimson. "I know. That was out of line. Just stay for a bit, maybe we can help each other out. Or at least let me make my situation clear to you. I feel bad."

"Makes two of us."

She stopped and turned on her heels to look at him. He was a handsome guy for certain, with shiny brown hair nearly parted to one side, and soft, golden skin lightly kissed by the Mojave sun. Brianna resisted the urge to bark out a laugh upon looking at him clearly for the first time, when he wasn't waving a gun in her face. Okay, he was a pretty boy. His chequered shirt was neatly pressed and buttoned; his jeans were tightly belted and he wore a deep burgundy scarf around his neck. He looked like a merchant or caravaneer, though of a more polished pedigree

"Well aren't you gorgeous?" She smirked.

He huffed out an irritated sigh. "I'll choose to ignore that comment, considering that you are under the influence..." He stuffed another hand into his pocket and looked at her, a serious expression worn clearly on his face. It was hard to tell at that moment, but he almost looked sad. "Look..." He sighed. "I just... Fuck, I don't know."

"You're just dying for me to ask, aren't you?" She grumbled, seeing his shoulders slump in defeat. "What's the problem? Why are you holed up here like some junkie and why the hell do you expect me to help you out?" He looked ready to reply before realisation dawned on her. "Wait. You're, uh... Ringo, right?" She remembered Sunny mentioning a name like that. Probably wouldn't have remembered it either, had it not been so unusual.

He nodded in confirmation. "Sure am. Ringo Hendricks. And those Powder Gangers, they know I'm here, alright? They want me dead. Managed to take out a few of their boys when my caravan got attacked. Jessie and Laura... They didn't make it. I managed to get away, though. And now they ain't gonna stop terrorising this town 'til they get what they want. Me, that is. Guess I killed someone important to them."

"Then you're not in the easiest of situations. Look, I'm gonna put this as bluntly as I can... I don't wanna help you. I already got shot in the head. It hurts like a bitch, and I don't know who the fuck you are. Unless you can offer me something, then I'm afraid you're out on your ass here."

His eyebrows raised, and he looked at her in surprise, not sure what to make of her. "Alright, I work for the Crimson Caravan Company. Came into some work before the caravan was wiped out, and I managed to carry out some of the leftover payment. If you can help me..."

"Great." If she wanted to get out of this town, she would need caps. And she could imagine that those Khan bastards had taken everything she'd had on her. It hadn't been much, but it had been something, at least. "Tell me about the Powder Gangers. Who are they, why are they dangerous, and where did they come from?"

"Old NCRCF facility a ways south-east of here. Bunch of convicts were taken in a while back. Rapists, murderers, usual rabble. Turns out, it ain't such a good idea to give a load of dynamite to criminals. They tried to escape and blew up anything that got in their way, including the good NCR folks that patrolled the place. Now I guess they're running the show up there."

"Right. And you want me to... What?"

"I would be happy with anything you can do. There's no way I'm getting out of this without a fight. Sunny Smiles has been..." He smiled absently. "Well, she's been great. I mean, uh, she's good with a, uh, gun. Yeah." He cleared his throat. "I just don't think she's gonna challenge these guys without a little persuasion, and nobody else seems willing enough to give her some encouragement. Besides you, perhaps."

"Me?" _Bullshit. _"You're gonna pay me to convince Sunny Smiles to fight for you?"

He nodded. "I guess you could say I'm desperate. And you, well... Doesn't look like I'll be convincing you to do it for free."

"Guess you ain't as dumb as you look. Brianna. Brianna O'Reilly."

"Thank you, Brianna. Thank you kindly."

"Pleasure."

And with that, Ringo Hendricks tipped his imaginary hat to her and walked off, leaving her alone once again on the hilltop.


	5. Ghost Town Gunfight

**GOODSPRINGS**

**JULY 17**

**10:21**

Her stomach heaved violently. Her head span. She could only grip the toilet bowl tightly to keep herself from falling over as she retched, throwing up most of last night's drink and feeling none the better for it. She almost gagged at the wretched taste on her tongue. Her lips were dry and cracked and she could think of nothing better than taking a couple of stims and lying down. Or curling up and dying. That would certainly make her feel better.

With trembling limbs she managed to get to her feet again, pain throbbing fiercely against her temples. Dizziness took over her before she was even standing up right, forcing her to grab at the sink for support before she passed out again.

So the drinking hadn't been a good idea, as she had already figured out. The pounding in her skull was tremendous, hitting with full intensity when she tried to stand up. Or do anything else other than vomit, for that matter.

She groaned, forcing herself to look in the mirror to see just how bad the damage was. Her stomach turned as she saw her own face, bruised and bloodied even more so than it had been when she had first arrived. An ugly, purple bruise had formed along the right side of her jaw, staining the surrounding area with blotches of sickly green and yellow. A similar pattern had probably formed by her left temple, hidden underneath her filthy bandages, now caked with dirt and blood. The colour of the Mojave had drained from her face, leaving her looking white and skeletal, with heavy dark bags hanging underneath her bloodshot eyes. Her bottom lip was torn open and her hair was matted and wild.

_I look like a fucking junkie._

With a great deal of effort, she managed to stay upright long enough to exit the bathroom, wondering if she could slip into the fridge and grab a bite to eat without the doctor hearing that she was awake. The last thing she needed was a lecture from the old man, and she certainly didn't want to be kicked out on her ass either. If she could just quietly slip in...

"What in the-?"

_Shit. _As she stepped through into the kitchen, she was greeted by Doc Mitchell himself, leaning against the counter and finishing off a plate of mantis legs. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw her, and he quickly set the plate aside. "And where exactly were you, missy?"

She leaned against the door frame when she felt herself wobbling. "I'm sure somebody told you about what happened. No need to go playing dumb."

"As a matter of fact," he began, straightening himself up and folding his arms, "Sunny told me all about it. What in God's name do you think you're doing, girlie?" He scolded. "Not only did you threaten your own health, but Trudy... What exactly are you tryin' to prove by being a menace to this town, Miss O'Reilly?"

"I went out for a drink, rubbed the bartender up the wrong way, big fucking deal. I'm not your damned kid, Mitchell."

"No, but you _are _my patient. You think I spent all that time fixin' you up-"

"Look, Doc," she began, "I'm fixed. Okay? I'm fucking fixed! I've had my head sewn up and my scratches kissed better and this," she gestured towards herself. "This... Is as good as I get."

"Well that's just _perfect!" _He yelled. "Fantastic. You consider yoursel' all better, so away with ya. Go on! Out!"

She froze, taken aback. "But-"

You've done nothin', _nothin'_ for this down since you came here. In fact, all you've done is cause trouble for all of us. So just leave already. I put a lot of time into makin' sure you recovered, missy. And this is how you repay me?"

"Look, you don't understand," she protested. "I don't have anywhere to go. Just gimme a day so I can-"

"Why? So you can cause me even more grief?"

"Doc-"

_"_No. I'm done with you, girl. _Out."_

* * *

She stood by the edge of town without any idea of where she was headed. Her head ached and her motivation had been visibly drained, leaving her body weak and barely able to carry the weight of the bag at her back. She couldn't look at the road ahead of her without feeling as if her lungs were deflating._ Hell, _she thought, _where the fuck do I go from here? _Her best bet was New Vegas, and that was the very last place she wanted to be. And what exactly would she do when she got there? Ask nicely if she could have her extremely valuable platinum chip back? And she'd have to sell her ass on the streets of Freeside again if she had any hope of getting into the city in the first place. _Just like old times._

"Hey, Brianna! You! You _coward!"_

The thundering voice was enough to kick her back into reality again. Brianna whizzed around as the voice continued to scream, "I thought you were gonna help! You _promised_ him! You low-life, c-cowardly piece of _shit!"_

_What the-? _All of a sudden, the familiar short frame of Sunny Smiles was storming out towards her. The blonde woman shoved Brianna backwards, her eyes burning with hatred. Her glare was venomous, her features twisted in disgust. "Ringo told me _everything! _He said you were going to help him, and now you're running away? How _dare _you?!" She screamed. "After all we've done to help! How _could _you?"

The courier took a step forward, glowering at the angry woman despite her own confusion. She herself stood about three inches taller, looking down on the raging blonde with a snarl. "What the fuck is your problem now?!" She demanded. "'Cause you've made your feelings towards me quite clear already!"

"Why, because of what happened last night? Look, I tried to stop her, alright? I did! But God, you were drunk and angry and- okay, maybe Trudy got a little bit out of hand, but Doc Mitchell said-"

"There you go! Doc fucking Mitchell, who now knows about everything that happened last night thanks to you and your big fucking mouth! Why the hell do you think I'm leaving in the first place?! Not because my headache's suddenly up and disappeared, that's for damned sure!"

"Wait... What?" She visibly deflated. "Look, I didn't tell the Doc anything, I promise. Yeah, I got a little pissed off, I guess, but you were just trying to fight back, and Trudy isn't really-"

"Get to the point."

"Okay, okay. The Doc told me that you were leaving to get away from the business with the Powder Gangers. He said you didn't wanna help, and that you didn't wanna get involved, so I thought-"

_"Bullshit. "_That bastard kicked me out, alright? Some crap about me being a 'menace'. Fucker just filled my bag up with some painkillers and threw me out." She frowned. "So what the fuck is going on here?"

Sunny nodded slowly, seeming to suddenly realise the answer to an unasked question. "I- I think he wanted you gone before... Before..." She took a deep breath. "We have two hours, Brianna. Cobb came into the bar earlier, it was just me, Mitchell and Trudy, and... That's it. Said we have 'til noon before him and his friends come in here and... And blow the place up." Her voice cracked noticeably as she continued, "So it makes sense, right? He wanted you out before you got into danger, or got the town into danger. Because you _will _help, right? You have to. Even if you can't fight, we have to gather people and get supplies and I'm sorry but I _can't_ do this by myself! Please?"

The courier shook her head slowly, but not quite in dismissal, as she tried to control the sudden whirlwind of information whizzing around in her brain. That old bastard Doc Mitchell had been lying through his teeth for a start, but that wasn't her greatest concern. The miserable little town of Goodsprings had two hours before an army of convicts marched in to blow their balls into the sky. As much as she really couldn't give a damn about whether or not the locals survived, who the hell was she to pass up a _golden _opportunity? Damned if she wasn't itching for a surge of adrenaline to kick-start her mind and body back into working condition. And if by some miracle they managed to survive without being blown up, Ringo would be likely to give her that payment she'd been promised, and Goodsprings would certainly reward her with some decent supplies to keep her alive in the longer run.

A wicked grin spread across her face. She had two measly hours to get her own shit together and round-up as many people as she could before the Powder Gangers arrived. She could talk to Chet about gathering up some weapons and armour, and the drunken old farmer she'd met at the saloon _did _mention something about a stack of dynamite buried somewhere in the town. If she somehow managed to sweet talk Trudy into rounding up some people, and convince Doc Mitchell to offer up his medical supplies... Hell, she could easily turn Goodsprings into an armed militia. Other than the fate of the town and potential loss of life, there was no risk involved!

"Sweetie, I don't know if I like that look on your face," Sunny said, the hint of concern in her tone not enough to hide her excitement. "And here I took you for the inconsiderate type."

"Look, I honestly couldn't give a fuck about your little friend at the gas station. Not as long as this gets interesting..." She trailed off for a moment, ideas already beginning to form in her head about how to best take action. The Powder Gangers had dynamite, which quickly cancelled out any thought about a straight up shoot-out. What she needed was the element of surprise, right? And maybe a painkiller or two. Damned if her head wasn't pounding like a horny brahmin.

"Alright. I need you to talk to Trudy. Tell her to gather up as many people as she can and make sure they all head up to the saloon. I'll talk to Easy Pete, Chet, and maybe Doc Mitchell. Gotta make sure somebody knows that I'll be expectin' big fucking payment for this."

* * *

"My latest stock?!" The store owner whined, the scraping nasal tones of his voice doing very little good for Brianna's intensifying headache. Five minutes in Chet's pathetic excuse for a store was enough to make Brianna want to tear her hair out. Honestly, she didn't want to hear about scopes and mufflers and extended magazines. She didn't care about how terribly the QSZ-92 performed compared to his newest MP-30 Colt, and she certainly did not give a flying fuck about the ZM-87 coming with a half-priced silencer and dual laser splitter when you bought a hundred extra rounds from the Gun Runners' arsenal. And yet, since the moment she had put her foot through the door, that bullshit was all she could hear spewing from the guy's mouth. She needed guns. Working guns, and fully loaded. But that must have been too much to fucking ask for.

"We're talking about a two thousand cap investment here," Chet continued, staying seated behind the counter so he could polish his newly painted Parabellum. He even avoid her gaze as she tried to bargain with him, instead focusing on the pistol and gazing at it lovingly as he held it up to the light.

_Fucking asshole._

Brianna leaned her head against the door, shutting her eyes and taking a long, deep breath. She felt the harsh taste of chemicals along her tongue from the excessive polish, and wondered just how long Chet spend with his guns each day, caressing their holsters and nuzzling their barrels. The guy was creepy, and the faint green haze that tainted the air indicated that he was probably stoned too. _Great._

"I'm gonna make this real simple for you, Chet," she explained, straightening herself up and making her way over to the counter. "Give us the guns and we shoot the Powder Gangers. _Don't_ give us the guns and the Powder Gangers shoot you. Make sense?" She smiled sweetly as the store owner rose from seat, carefully setting the gun on the counter before finally looking her in the eyes. He opened his mouth, ready to protest.

"Give us your fucking guns, Chet," the courier warned. "Or you'll see them blown to pieces by the armed militia that's gonna blow up your store, rape you, and murder you. In whatever order." She folded her arms across her chest, looking at him expectantly with a single eyebrow raised in challenge. She dared him to say no, and the daggers in her eyes promised that she wouldn't be taking that as an answer.

"Fine! You can take them! Fifty percent discount!"

Brianna blinked at him.

"Seventy five! Eh-eighty!"

She sighed. "Wrong answer, Chet."

He groaned, placing both hands on the counter and sighing in defeat.

That was all she needed.

* * *

Her knuckles drummed lightly on the door, and she waited.

"Huh. Looks like I really can't lie worth a damn."

Brianna looked up to see Doc Mitchell leaning against the door frame in front of her. She hadn't even heard the door open. He wore an angry frown as he looked at her, his arms folded across his chest. "Guess Sunny managed to catch up to ya. So do I have time for an apology before you waltz out there and get yourself blown up?"

"Doc, just-"

"Just nothing, missy." He scowled. "Now I have spent a lot of time and effort trying to fix you up and get you up on your feet again, and not for the sake of my own health. I didn't pull all those bits of lead outta your brain just so you could get it blown up by Powder Gangers."

She opened her mouth to interrupt him, but he persisted with his lecture. "And this ain't just about your safety neither. You're putting all o' Goodsprings at risk. Don't you have any respect for the people of this town? For me, after all I've done?" He sighed, leaning against the door frame and closing his eyes. The old man looked exhausted.

Brianna wasn't swayed. In fact, if she'd been mad before, it had nothing compared to the anger she felt now, surging through her veins. She exploded. "Then what would be the better option, doc?! Handing over an innocent man just so those Powder fucks can burn this place to the ground anyway?! You know what's gonna happen, doc, and don't act as if I'm the only one to blame, because putting my life on the line is one hell of a lot better than sitting on my ass and letting this entire town get blown up! If you want a 'thank you' for saving me, this is it."

_See? _I'm _the one who can lie worth a damn._

Her voice died down and the silence fell, leaving the echoes of her venomous words ringing in her ears. Her heart hammered in her chest; her head pounded fiercely and yet she stood, waiting for the doctor's answer. For a while he looked at her with an expression that she couldn't quite make sense of. And then she realised.

_Jesus, looks like he's just watched his little girl grow up in front of him. I'm gonna puke._

He stepped inside, holding the door open as a signal for her to join him. She did, feeling something close to regret at how she had yelled at him. She supposed she couldn't blame him for wanting to keep the town safe, even if his attempts had been beyond futile. _Fear changes people, _someone had told her once,_ and strong people can become cowering fools before it if they're not careful._

The doctor hobbled off along the corridor before stopping in front of an old bookshelf that was barely holding itself together. On the top shelf was a dented footlocker, caked with years of dust and dirt. He opened it wordlessly and began rummaging inside with a disgruntled expression. Brianna slowly moved along the hall as he produced from the footlocker a large, bulky... Heap of shit, it would seem. She wasn't sure what exactly it was other than a big heap of scrap metal with a dim green digital face.

"This is the least I can give you in ways of apology..." He mumbled, shuffling slowly towards her. "Was my wife's. It's a Pip-Boy, and I assume you know what that is."

_Damn right I do. _

She nodded, her stomach lurching for a moment when she heard the thing's name. It sure rang a few bells, alright. She hadn't recognised it at first, much to her own surprise. An old friend of hers had owned one, and Brianna had never seen her take it off. _It was a birthday present, I guess, _she had said. _I never realised it would be this useful. _Upon closer inspection, Brianna saw that it resembled a large, metal arm bracer with a screen the colour of an old wine bottle, and a number of dials at the front. The screen was blank at the minute, but she figured it would turn on when equipped.

"You, uh, don't really have to-"

"You shush your mouth and take the damn gift," the doctor said, holding the gadget out to her. "My wandering days are past me now, so it won't do me no good. And my wife sure as God can't use it anymore. Besides, it's a pretty useful little gizmo, got all kinds of neat tricks. Got a map, compass, clock, alarm... Even recognises whoever's wearing it. It'll scan ya, then look at yer brainwaves and insides or something like that, I dunno. Anyway, it records some information about you that you just might find interestin'. Put it on."

She let out a 'hunh' of approval and took the thing from the doctor's hand, gnawing her lip as she inspected it. After a moment, she slipped the thing over her wrist. For a split second it felt as if someone had given her a bag of bricks to carry on one arm. She felt the metal band tightening around her forearm and heard it lock with a soft 'click'. After adjusting to its weight and bulk, she lifted her arm to see the screen flashing to life, accompanied by a cheery tinkling sound as a bright display of random data appeared, streams of unintelligible code speeding along as the thing adjusted to being brought back from the dead. _Impressive, _she supposed, _for a piece of Vault-Tec junk._

On the screen now was a grinning cartoon boy, with only a rough body outline detailing his limbs, torso, and head. The screen flickered for a short second before six long, green bars stretched out over the digital cartoon, one for its head, torso, and each of its four limbs. _Health bars, _she realised with a smile of amusement. _L__ike from those pre-war games. _It looked as if everything was in working order, with every bar being entirely full. Even her head, surprisingly. _No. Wait a second... _The bar marking the boy's head began to slowly deplete, leaving it less than half filled with green. She supposed she should have seen that coming._  
_

The doctor watched her with a smile as she played with the dials, unable to suppress a grin of satisfaction as she figured out the various controls. She found that the most interesting thing was the statistics menu, which proved to be surprisingly - if not alarmingly - accurate. She examined it closely, wondering just how the hell the machine knew so much about her.

**BARTER: 50**

**ENERGY WEAPONS: 15**

**EXPLOSIVES: 35**

**GUNS: 85**

**LOCKPICK: 45**

**MEDICINE: 45**

**MELEE WEAPONS: 75**

**REPAIR: 5**

**SCIENCE: 40**

**SPEECH: 75**

**SURVIVAL: 90**

**UNARMED: 45**

The doc scratched his head. "I, uh, took the liberty of fillin' it all in, going by those medical forms you filled out. And from everything you've told me about yourself, of course. Wasn't sure if I could give the old thing up, though, otherwise I woulda given it over sooner. Hope everything's accurate and all that."

"Yeah, it's... It's uh, great. Great..."

He looked at her with a confused frown. "Everything alright?"

"Fine," she smiled. "Thank you."

"Well, if that's everythin' you'll be needin'..." He trailed off, as if awaiting her reaction. "Nope, 'course not. Now, I really can't shoot worth a damn, but I'll be waitin' here to get ya patched up if things go bad. I'll even spare a few extra stims. Anything I can do, missy."

* * *

The saloon was buzzing with energy, and not the particularly good kind. Angered shouts were coming from most of the villagers who sat around the bar, and Sunny Smiles was caught right in the middle of it all, her blonde ponytail the only thing visible over a mass of heads as people continued to file in. Her voice was swallowed by a chorus of pissed off locals yelling and cursing, obviously displeased with the choices they had been given: Fight and live or hide and get blown up.

Brianna slipped in silently and unnoticed. She saw that every seat in the bar was taken up by farmers and merchants, not one of them glancing in her direction, or looking the slightest bit happy. She cursed under her breath. They really didn't have time for this.

A gunshot exploded through the wave of sound, silencing the protests and leaving the bar deathly quiet. Brianna strode through to the centre of the room right next to Sunny, pistol in hand. _Thank you, Chet._ "Everybody shut the fuck up!" She yelled, silencing the wave of disgruntled voices. No one dared move as they watched the newcomer, predictably with wide eyes and frightened expressions. They probably thought that she was crazy. Maybe that would be a good thing.

"You all know the situation here, right?" She addressed the townspeople, about forty of them in all. "Maybe you guys aren't as thick as you look after all. We have an hour before Cobb and the rest of his little gang march in here and burn this place to the ground. One fucking hour. You _can _count, right? And don't play dumb and pretend like it's only dear Ringo they want. It _ain't_. They want this town and they intend to take it by force. You people can sit here with your thumbs up your asses for as long as you want, but this is happening, okay? Are you really gonna let this town burn because you're too afraid to stand up and fight?!"

"What the hell do you think this is? A game? A movie?" A voice called. "This, lady, is serious. People are gonna die if we turn against them! They'll blow us up!"

"People are gonna die anyway!'' Another voice returned sharply.

"Not if we hand that guy over!"

_"God, _you're stupid!"

Brianna stood silently as argument broke out between the locals. Many were against the idea of fighting off the Powder Gangers for a number of reasons. They complained about Ringo more than once, and even about Brianna herself. "Hey!" She called. "Are you gonna shut the fuck up for one second?!" Nobody lowered their voice to hear her.

"Hey!" Sunny yelled. "Can you- no, just- Can you be quiet please?! We really do stand a chance here! With Chet's guns and the Doc's supplies, we could really do this!"

"What the hell would you know?!" A voice yelled back. Sunny faltered.

"Okay, uh..." She sighed, "If you're not up for it, then go. Just leave and..." She steeled herself, taking a deep breath before continuing. "No. If you're not up for it, then get out of my sight. And I hope you feel _proud_ when you walk outta those doors leaving everybody else to fend for themselves. When we kick those Powder fucker's asses I hope you feel _ashamed_ that you were too busy wiping the shit stains from your panties to defend your own home! We have the supplies, the resources, the skills... Now all we need are people with balls. I mean... It's the wasteland, dammit!"

There was a long, awkward period of silence before a man got to his feet. "This is fuckin' stupid," he spat, deliberately moving to brush past Sunny's shoulder as he made his way out of the bar. "This ain't a god damn movie..."

Brianna gnawed her lip in agitation. As many as thirty people rose from their seats, shoved their hands in their pockets and left from both doors without a word. "Pussies," she hissed, eyeing the remaining townspeople. About ten, fifteen people remained, including Trudy and Easy Pete. _Looks like Chet fucked off too._ The others looked to be farmers or merchants, but most of them at least carried pipes and broom handles; some even had guns holstered at their sides. Maybe they wouldn't be so hopeless after all, then. _Maybe._

Brianna took advantage of the reduced numbers to take a seat at the bar. She slumped over the table and rested her aching head against it, furious at the sheer amount of gutless, spineless assholes that made up the ruined town of Goodsprings. "Dammit..." She mumbled. "Shit, fuck... _Penis."_

The voice to reassure her wasn't one that she expected to hear. "I... I support you," Trudy said, "I think you're doing the right thing. We can't just stand down and let those people take our homes. You're... You're a very, uh... Brave woman..." Her voice was wobbly and strained, as it were a struggle to even form the words. She probably didn't mean a thing she said, but Brianna could care less. She stood up, biting down the pain of her headache and looked to the time on her Pip-Boy. "Twenty minutes, people!" She declared, rubbing her hands together with a mixture of excitement and nerves. "The Powder Gangers are comin' to play."

* * *

They stood boldly at the edge of town, about ten in all, wearing identical blue security armour with red splotches along the hips. Looking through her binoculars, Brianna could see that those were their belts, at least five sticks of dynamite tucked into each one. On the signal of the dark-skinned man with a wicked buzzcut, whom Sunny had pointed out as Cobb, they swaggered dauntlessly along the southern road, one twirling a stick of dynamite in one hand, others wielding police batons or holding pistols by their sides. The group was led by Joe Cobb himself who led them to the town, his expression stony as he looked around for any sign of opposition. He found none.

The townspeople, or as many as they could gather, were positioned behind the Prospector's Saloon and a small farmhouse across from it, ensuring that they were completely out of sight. It would destroy their plan if they were caught even a second too soon. Brianna had figured that the element of surprise was the best way to proceed. At least they could take down a few Powder bastards before they could even light their dynamite. That, hopefully, would be the difference between life and death.

_Hopefully._

Brianna herself was positioned behind a large assemble of rocks just by the road, equipped in brand new leather armour courtesy of Chet. With a weathered old semi-automatic by her side and a fully loaded assault rifle at her back, she felt... Fucking unstoppable. She glanced at Sunny - who was situated next to her - for confirmation. The woman nodded, readying her hunting rifle. Brianna could tell that Sunny was just as nervous as she was. After all, she'd only ever fought geckos and radscorpions by the looks of it. As for Brianna, well... With her injury she wasn't as confident in her own combat skills that she had so often relied on. But there was no time for doubt, not now, with the Powder Gangers so very close...

Almost there...

_"Now."_

She leapt from behind the rock, taking only a split second to ready the semi-automatic and unleash a spray of bullets on the unsuspecting Powder Gangers_. "Fuckers!" _She screamed, laughing as her bullet caught one in the shoulder, before aiming and taking another shot at the next faceless target, sending him down with a quick shot to the skull before diving down behind an old wagon on the other side of the road.

Angry roars began to emit from the dwindling group of convicts as they waved their pistols around frantically, unsure of what to do and not seeing any target to shoot at. Brianna peered out from behind cover to see Joe Cobb himself unholstering his pistol, about to blow her cover and send another bullet through her brain. _Shit. _Where the hell was Sunny?!

The wave of fire came just in time as the other locals emerged from their hiding places, ushering the gunfight into its bloody climax. Terrified screams emitted from both sides before the sound of gunfire swallowed the rest of the world. Brianna watched as one Powder Ganger fell to the ground, twitching grotesquely, with the upper half of his head exploded in a spray of crimson. Another was finished off with a quick shot to the neck, forcing red liquid to spurt violently outwards from his mouth and ears as he tore at his neck, a desperate look in his eyes and his mouth open wide as he choked. He fell to his knees and Brianna saw no more of him, his anguished gargle swallowed by the sound of war.

She wasted no time in joining in on the action, jumping up to quickly assess the area. As planned, her little army was too close in proximity for their opponent's most effective weapon; an explosion could easily end up killing people from both sides, rendering their dynamite useless. From the other side of the road, amidst a sea of blue and red, Brianna could see Sunny wrestling with her rifle. It was jammed. She raced through the crossfire, spinning around quickly when she caught another Powder Ganger running towards her from the corner of her high. She dug her nails into his right arm, tearing through the light blue fabric and planting a hard kick on his shin. He cried out in anger as she threw her rifle over her shoulder and unholstered her pistol, slamming the butt into the back of his head and sending him to the ground. She moved quickly from then towards Sunny, seeing another man dressed in blue racing towards her. Three gunshots sounded and he was choking on his own blood. _Not enough. _She rushed for him, slamming her gun into his skull. And she did it again. And again. And again. And the man's skull concaved further with each blow, bits of blood and what appeared to be brain matter oozing from his crushed head.

She barely had time to throw the body aside before she was grabbed and thrown to the ground by an overpowering force. The woman was on top of her, taking a fistful of Brianna's hair and yanking on it roughly, drawing out an involuntary cry of pain. Her head felt like it would explode at any minute as she looked up at the crazed woman, her own limbs aching and paralysed. The woman's eyes were hollow and manic as she grinned at Brianna, taking joy in her own strength as she so easily overpowered her. "You'll pay for that, bitch," she spat, pinning Brianna down with one hand as she removed a stick of dynamite from her pocket. Brianna panicked, fighting now to kick the woman off her, but to no avail. The damn bitch was too strong. She dug the stick of dynamite into the bandaged side of Brianna's head, causing her to scream loudly as blinding pain overtook her, disabling her senses just long enough for the Powder Ganger above her to remove a lighter from her pocket.

Brianna screeched in agony, blinded by the fire that was raging in her skull. The pain was excruciating and she had no way to stop it. She heard a soft 'click' as the flame was ignited, and opened her eyes just long enough to see the dynamite being lit. Such a short fuse...

"No!" She screamed, "Gah! _Fuck!"_

It happened in an instant. The weight was lifted from her body at once, though the grinning face of the insane woman was still etched in her mind as the world slowed. She couldn't stand; her limbs were aching and the searing pain in her head prevented her from even trying to move. She could only watch as Sunny Smiles tore the stick of dynamite from the woman's hand and kicked her down to the ground. Deaf to the gunfire, she watched as Sunny turned to throw the dynamite away, to ensure that no one would be hurt by it, not even the Powder fucker who had lit it. But _dammit... _Brianna wished she could tell her that she was too fucking late.

The thing had just left her hand before it went off, exploding into dust and fire and she couldn't move and she had do something because _Grace was in danger and she had to help and FUCK._

She crawled towards the sound of agonised screaming, grunting and crying out her anger as she saw Sunny lying on her back, her face bloody and contorted in pain. Sunny clutched her hand tightly, screaming in terror as her body writhed around in the sand, her eyes squeezed shut. She let out a brutal, ugly sob, giving Brianna the strength to scramble to her feet before moving to kneel at the woman's side.

"Grace!" She screamed. "Show me your hand." She was unable to hide the panic in her voice. "Show me your _hand_, Sunny." Nothing. Just screaming. "Sunny! Show me your _fucking _hand!" She grabbed the girl's right hand and tore it away, hearing her screams get louder as her grip was broken. Brianna's stomach heaved at the sight of the ruin that Sunny had been so desperately clinging on to. A busted mass of tissue, gushing with blood, only half a finger still intact on what remained of her hand.

"Okay... Okay... Okaynoshitshitshitfuckfuck FUCKFUCK!" She was paralysed. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the grotesque, bleeding extremity. Dammit, she had to fucking do something!

Her knife was holstered at her left thigh. She took it. Cut a long strip of leather from the leg of her armour. Turned to the screaming woman. One long, deep breath. _You've seen this before. _She grabbed the woman's wrist and brought it close to her. With one quick, strong movement she sliced it off, forcing herself to ignore Sunny's terrified screams as she wrapped the bleeding stump in leather. She took the elastic from Sunny's hair and used it effectively, tying the leather around the stump of her arm to ensure that it wouldn't bleed heavily. _You've seen this..._ Using all of her strength, she dragged the woman as quickly as she could towards a nearby pile of rocks, and laid her down behind it. "I'm sorry," she whispered, seeing that the woman was now silent and barely conscious. Her face had been drained of all its colour, leaving her looking much too like a corpse.

Brianna got to her feet, unholstering her pistol and leaving Sunny Smiles behind in the dirt. About three Powder Gangers remained, including Joe Cobb himself. She saw Ringo fighting off one with a knife and quickly took her aim. Fired. The man was caught in back of the neck, an explosion of blood splattering over the caravaneer. Ringo caught Brianna's eye and nodded his thanks before quickly turning towards another Powder Ganger, skewering him in the neck and saving a group of farmers from a bloody fate. Only Joe Cobb remained, visibly terrified as the townspeople, including Brianna, formed a circle around him, each one knowing who this kill belonged to.

Frantically, Cobb aimed his gun at Brianna and fired. A barely audible dry 'click' sounded, and Ringo smirked as he pushed through the widening circle to face the cowering Powder Ganger. Pretty boy Ringo Hendricks wore a smug expression as he aimed his pistol and shot Joe Cobb right in the groin. He went down immediately, screaming in agony. His hands desperately reached for something that he wouldn't find, blood spurting over his hands and causing him to scream even louder. Brianna half-expected Ringo to the put the screaming man out of his misery, but he did nothing put spit in his face and kick him in his bleeding crotch before turning to leave him in his agony.

Brianna watched for a few moments as the circle of townspeople yelled their victory, gathering together to kick the absolute shit out of the wailing Joe Cobb. It was only when he fell silent that Sunny crossed her mind again. Cursing sharply under her breath, she sprinted across the length of the road to catch up with Ringo, who jumped in surprise when she gripped his shoulder tightly.

"Oh, it's you. Look, I'm sorry you had to-"

"Fucking help her," she pleaded, worn and exhausted, with a dizzying headache. "She's dying. She's dying. Grace- Sunny, she..." Whatever tired, desperate expression she wore must have convinced Ringo immediately. He nodded to her and signalled for her to lead the way. She didn't hesitate. Maybe there would still be time.


	6. No Place for Compassion

**GOODSPRINGS**

**JULY 17**

**18:41**

The rest of the day was spent grocery shopping.

After Brianna had been given a couple of painkillers and had her bandages replaced, Ringo had felt obligated to do something about the mess that remained outside. Having a dozen rotting corpses piled up on the road was a good way to avoid unwanted company, of course, but a not the best way to keep the local trade circulating and the travellers floating in and out. That and the corpses were starting to stink. Badly.

Brianna had jumped at the opportunity to assist the acrimonious pretty boy in dumping all the bodies into a recommended ditch nearby. Someone had told her once that one man's trash was another man's treasure. In this case, one man's mutilated and desecrated corpse was another woman's treasure. And what a treasure trove this was, promising all kinds of interesting toys. Ringo had scowled at the mention of nabbing a few things from the corpses, but that was hardly her concern.

"You look like a little kid on Christmas morning, Miss O'Reilly," Ringo commented as they headed out from the doctor's office. He eyed the bodies ahead with predictable disgust.

"What the hell is a 'criss-miss?'"

He raised his eyebrows at her before shaking his head. "No matter, no matter. I suppose I can't rightly judge you for wanting to scavenge what you can. It most certainly is not an easy place out where you're going."

"Like I didn't realise that," she mumbled in response, her feet hitting the dusty pavement and brushing against someone's leg. She got to work quickly, crouching down and turning the corpse face-up."We're gonna get bloatflies buzzin' all over the fucking place if we don't move these damn things," she added, glancing over her shoulder at Ringo, who noticeably distanced himself from her as she began to feel up the pockets of the corpse's pants. _Bastard wouldn't dare lay a precious, golden finger on a nasty, dirty corpse. _The thing was icy to touch, emitting the acrid stench of shit and decay. She had enough experience with the smells to keep her from vomiting, though she barely managed to conceal her gagging behind a fake cough.

Five minutes passed and she had come up with a neat handful of frag grenades, a few nine millimetre magazines, a shitty old revolver, and more dynamite than she desired to count. Most of the loot would be useless to her, since she didn't care to give up her own pistol, and although she knew how to light and throw a stick of dynamite, she usually stuck to much closer combat. Still, it would be a shame to see anything go to waste.

Dumping her newly uncovered treasures into a leather bag she had stolen from Doc Mitchell, she glanced at Ringo, who remained standing. "Corpses don't bite, pretty boy." She got to her feet, tossing the bag absently over her shoulder. It fit comfortably, despite it being filled to the brim with explosives. "Don't wanna get your hands dirty?"

Ringo didn't bother to glance at her, his gaze fixated on the lifeless body of Joe Cobb which lay just a short distance away from Brianna's feet. "I helped to kill most of these people, Miss O'Reilly," he began. "They might not have been very good folk, but each human life is extremely important-"

"Oh, cut the bullshit," she snapped."You ain't any better than anyone else out there. You have to kill people if you wanna get by, and you don't go crying about it afterwards because you're some kinda special snowflake that's just too good for it."

"You think I don't know that?" Ringo spat, though his tone betrayed more sadness than anger. "How do you think I ended up here, scared for my life and- and shitting myself over the slightest bump in the night? I'm smart enough to know that life isn't easy, but that doesn't mean I'm not allowed to grieve. Don't you have any compassion?"

"No." She turned to him, narrowing her eyes. "Since when does _compassion _get you anywhere in this place? Since when did _compassion _pay my fucking debts? And why the fuck, Mister Hendricks, would I show _compassion _to the evil cunts who tried to blow me up? No, you're right. Fuck compassion. I gave that up a long time ago."

Ringo let out a low, humourless chuckle. "Eloquent as always. And a nice point you made, but anyone who saw you out here earlier would disagree. You had no reason to help me out, and that's just what you did. You even risked your life for Sunny Smiles, and don't you try to tell me that was payment."

She glared at him silently.

"Did I make my point?"

* * *

They left the bodies to burn in the ditch, just a ways west of the town. For Brianna the act had been endlessly satisfying, especially when she came across the head of the psycho bitch who had tried to blow her up. Ringo lent a hand in clearing off a few of the promised bloatflies, and it was slowly growing dark by the time they got back to Goodsprings. Ringo made a small attempt to lighten the hostility between them with conversation. He explained that he had been running an NCR caravan with his girlfriend and older brother, both of whom had been killed by the Powder Gangers. She expressed her feigned condolences, cheering him slightly before he asked about where she had come from. "The wasteland," she answered, and the conversation quickly ended.

He walked her back to doctor's practice ("It's the least I can do for such a charming woman.") and thanked her one last time before trekking off to the saloon, no doubt to wash away his grief with some stiff drink. Brianna didn't bother knocking as she slipped inside the doctor's house, quietly pushing the door shut and walking down the hall until she found his office. From the slightest crack in the door she could see the faint outline of a woman's body lying on what had been Brianna's own bed for a time. She hesitated outside the door, wondering if Sunny was awake, and whether she would want Brianna's company. Her own instincts told her 'no'.

"Didn't expect to see you back so soon..." The familiar gruff voice of Doc Mitchell sounded from behind her. She turned, seeing the doctor leaning against the opposite wall, his arms folded. He wore a particularly sour expression and Brianna wasn't sure if she wanted to know the reason why. "Finished cleaning up the bloodbath outside?"

She nodded carefully, allowing him to go on.

"What was I thinking...?" He mumbled, more to himself than anyone else, "I should never have allowed her. Should never have trusted you in the first place... Now just look at what's happened..."

"And we continue to go 'round in circles," Brianna said, exasperated as she blew out a sigh. "You can't pin this on me, alright? Go ahead and pretend like I organised the entire thing, like I was the one to blow Sunny's hand off, but she knew what we were getting into. So did you."

"No. No, I thought you knew what you were doin'. I thought you'd at least have the sense to- to..."

"You can't blame me for everything, you know! Everything but the fucking nuclear holocaust is my fault, isn't it? Look, doc, I really don't have time for this. This constant _bullshit _where people try to throw the blame on the only damned people who were willing to actually _do _something! Because you know for a _fact _that if Sunny and I hadn't stepped up, this entire town would've been blown to hell."

The doctor slumped his shoulders in defeat. "I guess I knew that..." He mumbled. "Always felt the need to stick the blame on someone else. seems only right. Never woulda let myself believe that the universe just allowed all this to happen, y'know? Had to be someone's fault, always somebody else... Guess that's why I'm such a bitter old fool." He chuckled humourlessly. "You should go ahead and see Sunny. Can't imagine she's actually asleep just yet. Sorry for riling ya up like that."

She nodded, allowing herself into the doctor's practice and gently closing the door behind her. She could hear the doc's footsteps slowly fading as he hobbled off, probably back into bed. She wondered suddenly just how long it had taken the old man to try and console a broken Sunny Smiles.

She glanced at the bed across the room, wondering if it would be right to wake Sunny from her sleep. She doubted that the woman would even want to see her at all, and how was she even supposed to help? Brianna breathed a light sigh, ready to leave for the saloon before the silence was broken by a barely stifled sob. She took a few cautious steps, the wracked sobs becoming more audible as she grew closer. The room was illuminated only by the moonlight spilling in from the shutters, giving her just enough light to finally see the injured, crying woman.

Sunny was curled up in a tight ball, knees pressed against her chest and her body turned away from Brianna. She sobbed into a small yellow blanket, her loose waves spilling over her tiny frame in matted tangles. It looked as if she was still wearing her frayed leather armour, her boots and gauntlets discarded on the floor.

Brianna pressed her lips tightly together as she edged closer to Sunny's bedside. "Uh... Hey..." She mumbled, slowly crouching down to meet her height.

Sunny made a small noise of acknowledgement and slowly brought herself up to a sitting position. Although she averted her eyes from Brianna's, the courier could see that they were swollen and bloodshot, and her cheeks were red and stained with fresh tears. She cradled her now properly bandaged stump in the hand that remained. Her face was marked with some vicious cuts and burn marks from the Powder Ganger fight. _She looks like hell._

"Hey..." Brianna forced a small, reassuring smile that, predictably, was not returned. "How are you feeling?"

She shrugged, hunching her shoulders and hugging her knees tightly. Her silence unnerved Brianna; it certainly wasn't like Sunny Smiles to keep her mouth shut for long. The woman pressed her chin between her knees. Her teary eyes shone in the faint cracks moonlight.

"Hey, uh... At least we didn't get blown up. You saved my life, right?"

"Yeah..." She mumbled, her voice cracking slightly when she spoke. "Why'd... Why'd you do it...? Why'd you... Cuh..."

"Cut it off? It was gonna get infected, and there was no way we could sew up all your fingers after they'd been trampled on by a bunch of Powder Gangers," she explained.

"How d- did you know... How'd you know it would work...?"

"... I saw somebody do it before. A doctor."

Sunny nodded before lying herself back down again, turning her head away from Brianna. She drew her blanket close to her face to stifle the sobbing noises and pained gasps. Brianna stood up, slowly met with a gut-wrenching feeling that she couldn't explain.

* * *

She stood in front of the mirror with a tense expression, running one hand along the angle of her jawline. The bruises along her jaw were fading, though that did very little to help her appearance. Her hair was matted in places, sticking up wildly at all angles, and although she could fully open her right eye, it was still rimmed with dark splotches of red and purple. The fresh bandage around her head concealed the left part of her skull for now, and she dreaded to imagine what kind of disfigured mess lay beneath. The doctor had promised her that the scar wouldn't be too noticeable, but she had her doubts.

"Here goes nothing..." She took a deep breath and slowly unwrapped the bandage, wincing as it pulled away strands of hair and clotted blood. The wound was still incredibly painful, and more than once she had to stifle pained gasps as sharp lances of pain shot through her. Once the bandage was completely removed, she let the disgusting thing fall at her feet and slowly raised her eyes to the mirror, dreading what she might find staring back at her.

Her stomach lurched violently when she saw it. Although she'd already been expecting the worst, her lungs still emptied themselves of oxygen when she saw it. The hideous mess that remained after the injury. A long, jagged scar shone milky white where the doctor had stitched her up, trailing along from her temple to her eye socket. But that wasn't nearly the worst part. Surrounding the scar itself was a big, dark patch of scar tissue, a few shades darker than her own lightly tanned skin. The hair surrounding it had been hastily cut away, hiding not an inch of the monstrous scarring. Brianna gripped the edges of the sink tightly as she took in her reflection. "Dammit..." She muttered, lightly tracing the scar tissue and flinching at the rough feeling. The healing tissue spread from the entire upper left side of her head to her left eye socket, stealing away whatever redeeming features were still left to her.

"Must add a hell of a lot of character..."

A knock on the bathroom door brought her back to her senses. She heard the doctor's voice from the other side, urging for her to hurry up and asking if she was okay. 'C_ourse I'm fucking not. _She could kiss goodbye to whatever chances remained of her ever getting laid again, that was for damned sure. With an angered cry, she tore herself away from the mirror before she could smash it to pieces, slamming the bathroom door behind her after storming out. She leaned her head against it as Doc Mitchell hobbled towards her, his eyes widening in alarm.

"Ouch..." He said, obviously struggling to find words of consolation.

"Yeah... Ouch."

The doc nodded, scratching the back of his head nervously. "It, uh... Isn't as bad as it looks," he offered, the look on his face stating blatantly otherwise. In a hasty attempt to change the subject he added, "So what do you plan on doing with your hair? Gonna keep it that length, or...?"

"I'm gonna wash it, presumably, and get it looking halfway decent. No way in hell am I cutting it off," she stated, brushing a long, matted strand of hair over her shoulder. Sure, she might look hideous with her ugly scar, but cutting her hair couldn't possibly make a difference. If anything, cutting up would make it even more noticeable. So a hairless stripe it was, then.

"And scars add character, right?"

"So do big tits, killer eyes and a jawline to die for, but who the fuck's gonna notice that any more?"

That silenced him.

* * *

"Ammo... Ammo... Ammo... Rifle's better than this one... I'm gonna keep it. And throw in a scope too. Ammo... Ammo... Food..." She mumbled, gathering everything she needed into a huge pile and dumping it all on the counter. Chet's face grew a shade whiter with everything she decided to 'purchase'. Of course, when he had told her 'Y-you can, uh, take everything half-priced. It's the, uh... Least I can do', Brianna heard only the word 'take'. And that meant she could raid his fridge as well as his stock.

"Thanks so much for helping me out." She smiled sweetly, hoisting the rifle over her shoulder and looping the frag grenades safely around her new utility belt. Her new metal plated armour fit snugly around her body, courtesy of Ringo Hendricks himself, who'd had it delivered to her as a thank-you along with a beautiful two hundred caps. She dumped her remaining food packets in her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and gathered up the rest of her magazines to hang on the utility belt.

She flashed a smile for the surly shopkeeper before leaving Chet behind with his mouth gaping open. This was the time, she supposed, to think about finally leaving Goodsprings. She wasn't sure where she would go just yet, but she supposed that Primm would be a good place to start. A little extra information on her delivery job might shine some light on why she'd been shot in the head, and it was as good a place as any to begin.

"Hey, sweetie," a familiar voice called. Brianna turned, surprised to see Sunny Smiles smiling sheepishly and waving at her with her one working hand. The other was bandaged up and hanging at her side. Brianna immediately noticed the difference in Sunny's appearance as she made her way over. Her hair had been brushed until it shone and fell in waves over her shoulders, and she wore a pair of frayed denim jeans with a white button shirt and brown leather jacket. Brianna envied the outfit - God only knew where she'd found actual denim - but the jealousy soon faded when she realised that Sunny was only wearing it for one reason. She didn't need her armour anymore, because she could no longer 'protect' Goodsprings.

"You look better," she commented. "How've you been?"

"Better," she replied, the usual cheeriness in her voice returning, enough proof to convince Brianna that she was being honest, though her eyes were still swollen from a long night of sobbing. "But certainly not as bad as you." She eyed Brianna's assault rifle with surprise. "Looks like you've robbed Chet blind. Where'd you get the money for that?"

"I didn't," she replied, gnawing anxiously on her lip as she gazed out onto the southern road. Nervous excitement was building in her chest at the thought of finally leaving the small little town and hopefully finding some answers. And getting her fucking package back.

"So this is it, then?" Sunny asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "What do you plan on doing now?"

Brianna shrugged. Damn, it had been so long since she'd actually had some sort of goal to work towards, some kind of plan that didn't involve... Well, that didn't matter. "Heading to Primm, and wherever else after," she replied. "I need answers, and I need my r- package back." After a brief period of hesitation she finally asked, "And... What about you?"

The excitable bouncing stopped. "Uh, I don't know. I guess I'll just... Help Trudy out, probably. She needs someone to take over the saloon when she has one of her attacks. And I could probably help Chet out, or Doc Mitchell or..." She sighed. "I know, I know. Not much I can do with this..." She raised her bandaged stump. "I can still feel my missing fingers. I keep trying to... To wriggle them around sometimes. Or I try to pet Cheyenne or grab a drink with them..."

Brianna ignored the visible tears that were welling in Sunny's eyes. "You'll get used to it, right?" She offered feebly.

"... No. How am I supposed to get used to _this? _I just..." Her eyes widened. "Maybe I could... N- no... But maybe I could-"

"Get to the point, perhaps?"

"It's, uh... No, you'll say no. Sorry, it was stupid, I just-"

"Say it."

"I was just wondering if I could possibly, maybe travel with you," she blurted, her cheeks flushing crimson after the words tumbled out. Brianna raised an eyebrow, visibly taking aback.

"Travel with me?" She asked. _What? _It took her a moment to process that information. Sunny Smiles had seen her shoot, punch, kick, threaten and steal. And she wanted to _travel with her?_

"I _know, _I know I must sound-"

"Desperate. You must be _desperate _to wanna travel with me."

"Well... I don't see why not. I mean, I guess you can be kind of... Aggressive. And mouthy, and loud, and overly cocky, and demanding, and really, really foul-mouthed, but... Well, maybe I can help you. I still have my good hand. I can use a pistol, and I have Cheyenne. Maybe we could fight together, if needs be. And, y'know, I can be good company. It must get lonely travelling by yourself. Maybe you'd think about it?"

"Yeah... Maybe..."

* * *

Her farewell party was gathered at the edge of town, not even a bad turnout in Brianna's opinion. Along with Sunny, Cheyenne and Doc Mitchell, Brianna saw Ringo, Easy Pete, a few locals that she recognised from the bar, and - to Brianna's amazement - Trudy. Even Victor, the creepy robot who had pulled her out from the dirt, hung back in the distance, watching them. Some of them even looked sad to see her go. Or at least mildly inconvenienced. Doc Mitchell was the one to approach her first, to say his goodbyes.

"My, my, girl... I cannot explain how proud I feel, both of you and my stitchin' skills. I never thought I'd see you openin' your eyes never mind helpin' to take down a whole squad if Powder Gangers. I gotta admit, it's been a damn great pleasure to meet you, Brianna. I'll be sad to see you go." Tears brimmed in his eyes as he pulled her in for a hug. She reluctantly obliged, surprised at the compassion he showed towards her, despite all the unnecessary hell she had put him through.

She managed a smile, forcing herself to consider all he'd done for her. "Thanks, Doc. Uh, without you I guess... I guess I would probably be buried in a shallow grave with a hole in my head. Thanks."

He nodded at her and retreated a few steps to allow others their goodbyes. It was Ringo who approached her next, not exactly tearful, but sad to say goodbye. He held out his hand to her and gave her a small nod, unsurprisingly without a speech to give. "You stuffy old bastard," she smirked, shaking his hand.

"Thanks for all the help you offered, Miss O'Reilly," he said. "You're a god damned angel. Don't you get hurt out there, alright?"

She nodded and replied with a mere "You too." And that was that.

She didn't expect a goodbye from Trudy, nor did she receive one. After an alarming hug from Easy Pete and a few words of thanks from some of the other locals, Sunny moved to squeeze her shoulder reassuringly, as if Brianna herself actually looked upset. "Chin up, sweetie. You aren't getting rid of me yet!"

The doctor looked at them both in surprise, but didn't raise a question. In fact, the old man looked almost reassured.

"Guess that's that." Brianna added, wondering if they sensed her discomfort. She wasn't exactly prone to outbursts of compassion, and didn't deem herself concerned enough to feign one. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, I've said my goodbyes. C'mon, Cheyenne!" She called, and the dog came bounding up to greet them, tail wagging earnestly. Brianna offered a wave of goodbye to the small gathering as the three headed out, letting the town of Goodsprings disappear behind them, and fade into the distance.


	7. Long Way Nowhere

**SOMEWHERE OUTSIDE GOODSPRINGS**

**JULY 18**

**11: 30**

"The boys are the weediest; the girls are the prettiest~"

"Hey, Sunny, you wanna get smacked the fuck up?"

_"WaaaAAAAAaaaaaay BaaAAAAAaaaack HoooOOOOme~!"_

Brianna groaned, raising her arm to switch the radio off on her Pip-Boy, but to no avail. Sunny had already succeeded in drowning out the recorded chorus _of 'Way Back Home' _that was blaring from the gadget's speakers. Huffing out a sigh, she stretched widely before continuing her scan of the road ahead, a tense right hand tensed against the holstered gun at her thigh. Damned if being on the road again didn't feel fucking _incredible. _Sure her head was pounding like a bitch, but for the first time in months she actually felt... Alive.

And Sunny Smiles continued to sing.

"Look, I'll keep the damned radio on if you keep your mouth shut 'til we get to Primm. Agreed?"

"Oh come on," Sunny laughed. "We're making this fun, right?"

"Sure, sure. I bet the Deathclaws over the mountain are gonna find it real fun too. Maybe a band of raiders are gonna come and join the party. Because from here to New fucking Vegas, _everyone_ can hear you."

"... Gotcha."

"You'd better," Brianna muttered below her breath as she fiddled with the Pip-Boy's dials. On the screen was a list of radio stations and signals, only a few of which were actually familiar. She found the Mojave Radio and turned the volume dial until a low, gravelly voice became audible. She recognised the sound at once. The guy who called himself 'Mister New Vegas' ran the show, and for now he seemed to be giving a news report. Sure was a hell of a lot better than whatever fifties shit he had ready to play next.

_"Hellooooo, _my beautiful friends in the wasteland. This is Mister New Vegas to give you your daily dose of something... Truly amazing," the radio voice promised. "We've heard some interesting reports of the most beautiful courier you've ever seen, Miss Brianna O'Reilly herself. That's right folks, this feisty chick is _still_ kicking! I'm sure you've heard the rumours, and according to a reliable source - that is, an old man from Goodsprings armed to the teeth with dynamite - this courier just woke up in the town after being shot in the head by an unknown assailant up at Graveyard Hill. That's right folks, right in the head. Now, I know that some of you beautiful listeners out there aren't the brightest, but we _all_ know that people don't usually survive after..."

He continued to go on with his report, with Sunny giggling at a few of the more 'interesting' rumours, ("Did she really climb out of her grave and butcher every one of her attackers on Graveyard Hill before shooting _herself _in the head? We just don't know folks"). Brianna offered only a raised eyebrow. News sure got around fast.

Sunny looked at the courier expectantly, waiting for an explanation as to why she seemed to be widely renowned across the Mojave Desert. Brianna replied with a shrug. "I came back from the dead. Not often you see that happening, right?" Besides, the voice of the Mojave did tend to over-exaggerate on occasion. Wasn't much else you could do when nothing happened in the Wasteland but rape, murder and arson.

"A lot of things happen that we don't hear about, sweetie. It's hard to get information when you're holed up in an old recording studio, right? And neither of us have been anywhere in a while... So who knows what's going on around here?"

"Point," she agreed. "So... You've spent a lot of time in Goodsprings, right?" She questioned with a polite smile. Sunny Smiles had been pretty secretive about where she'd come from, but then so had Brianna herself. Still, she was curious above all else, and perhaps a small level of trust between would be healthy. Bad things seemed to happen to her a lot to her thanks to misplaced trust. She had every damned right to be paranoid.

"Sure have. Been here for about, uh... Three years, I think. Four years...? Four. I was a relative newcomer, but people accepted me pretty quickly, since the town itself is pretty new. Even Trudy fell for my irresistible charm and good looks. Who couldn't?" She smiled, scratching her mutt behind the ears as Cheyenne padded along happily at the heels of her master.

Brianna nodded and replied with a distracted 'mmm' of agreement. She wondered if the bubbly woman was trying to change the subject to Trudy, rather than herself. Unfortunately for Sunny, Brianna couldn't give a rats' ass about the barmaids' mental health issues. "So, what made you decide to settle in?" She asked. That seemed like a fair enough question.

Sunny groaned and stopped in her tracks to confront the courier. "Would you just give it a break? I'm sure you've damn well already realised that I don't wanna talk about that!"

"I thought it was an innocent enough question," she lied.

She raised her bandaged right arm in reply. "See this? This is what your life cost me. That's right, I saved your _life, _Brianna! Maybe the doc was right; maybe I _am _too trusting for my own good. But I've decided to put my trust in you because of what you did to help Goodsprings. I would at least expect the same level of trust from you. This trip should be fun, okay? We shouldn't fight."

Wait... _What?! _Now it was Brianna's turn to be pissed off. The only reason they were on this trip was because she'd been shot in the fucking head! As much as they could goof around and pretend that things weren't as bad as they seemed, things were the way they were. And they were _not _fun.

Brianna was quick to vocalise that opinion, moving closer to the shorter woman until Sunny's face was mere inches from her own. She heard Cheyenne growling in the background. "So how about you start thinking before you speak and don't make me regret taking you along. I have business to take care of, and I _really _don't have time for this over-dramatic bullshit. Forget that I asked any questions, alright? It was none of my business anyway."

Sunny nodded, stepping away and beginning to walk again, leaving Brianna behind to catch up. She hoisted her bag over one shoulder before silencing the radio and taking in her surroundings. Neither of them expected to reach Primm before nightfall, so predictably the town was nowhere to be seen from where they were. Instead she saw only the quiet emptiness of the vast Mojave desert, the NCR statues shaking hands far off into the distance. Up ahead she could see a small, boarded up shack.

"Jean's Skydiving," Sunny pointed out, and she seemed to be right. Brianna noticed the twisted metal of half an aeroplane rusting into the dirt. The place looked deserted at first glance, but as they grew closer Brianna could see faint indentations in the sand, and a faint billow of smoke trailing upwards from behind the building. Sunny frowned as her dog gave a low, guttural growl. "Powder Gangers, maybe?" She asked.

Brianna nodded slowly, her right hand tensing on the butt of her gun. Most travellers would have taken the I-15 from Goodsprings or continued onwards to Primm. And who the hell needed a campfire during early morning? They were in a god damned desert and the heat was blistering despite the sun not even having reached its full height. "Something ain't right..." She muttered, unholstering her pistol and edging closer towards the building until the two were right outside. She peered behind it for the sake of being cautious before slipping in behind the hut and aiming her pistol, seeing Sunny do the same on the opposite side.

They didn't find Powder Gangers, nor did they find travelling merchants. Instead the barrel of Brianna's gun found the stinking bodies of what appeared to be two junkies with needles stick lodged deep into their veins. Flies buzzed around the corpses, both lying face-down in the sand. The only living woman that remained of the group was hunched over and rocking slowly back and forth beside the dying campfire, unaware of (or completely indifferent to) the fact that her present company were currently in the middle of steady decomposition..

Sunny shot a questioning look in Brianna's direction, silently asking how they should proceed. Brianna shrugged, holstering her pistol and eyeing the makeshift campground. A small pile of various chems were littered on the ground, mostly caked with dirt and blood. To her left she found an empty first aid bag. Carefully, she moved down and gathered up whatever Jet inhalers she could see, and put them into the small bag.

"You think we should just... Leave her here?" Sunny asked, crouching down to grab Cheyenne's collar and attempt to soothe the excited dog.

Brianna gnawed on her lip quietly, studying the shot up Chemhead. The woman's cheeks were low and sunken, her bulging eyes nearly popping right out of her skull. With pale, veiny skin that was all but transparent, and matted blonde hair that stood up in filthy clumps, the junkie looked as much like a corpse as the other two by Brianna's feet. She wasn't even wearing clothes, in fact, only tattered grey underwear to reveal a vast amount of cuts, bruises and burn marks. She was nothing but a grotesque mockery of what had once been a human being, an empty shell devoid of any emotion.

Brianna drew her pistol and fired before Sunny could protest.

* * *

"That's NCRCF over there, see?" Sunny stretched on her tiptoes, pointing out the obvious prison camp that stood less than half a mile east, a short stretch ahead of the hill which they were currently crouching on. "That place'll be crawling with Powder Gangers, and I don't really fancy our chances against them... Even though we _did_ kick their butts the first time," she added with a devious smirk, raising her binoculars to her eyes and silently scanning the area. "We've got two watchmen situated on each of the lookout towers, and I bet there are tons more inside. There's a wide outdoor area inside that looks like it was used for forced heavy labour, and... And I see a dumpster filled up with... With bodies..."

Brianna crouched behind a rock, peering out from behind it and getting a good look at the place. They were close enough for her to see everything that Sunny described, even without binoculars. From this distance, she could easily take out the watchmen. As long as none of them moved, that was. She'd sniped enough mole rats in her time, but an armed target was a hell of a lot harder. Still, if she could catch them off guard...

"Let's take 'em out. They've got goodies in there, and we need all we can get." She took a deep swig from her canteen, the water tasting warm and stale as it slid down her throat. They only had two bottles left between them, which amounted to practically nothing when you had to live through the Mojave's nuclear summers. "We'll run out of ammo eventually too, and dynamite fetches a pretty good price on the market if you sell it to the right people. Plus, those fuckers get on my nerves."

"I- I don't know if we can risk it," Sunny said, her voice quavering with uncertainty as she lowered her binoculars. _No, not uncertainty, _Brianna realised. _Fear. _"It's a bad idea. You know how dangerous they are, and-"

"If we don't stock up on supplies we'll be hurrying to our graves." Brianna interjected, letting the strap of her rifle slide down her shoulder. She loaded it and peered through the scope, finding the watchmen Sunny had described, looking out from their towers. They each had plenty of dynamite tied around their belts, but even with the rifles at their backs, there was no way they stood a chance at hitting her from that far, not without a scope.

"Brianna, you _saw _them in Goodsprings. Even when we had ten people at our backs, they were still a force to be reckoned with. What makes you think that we can finish off that many by ourselves?"

"Because I spent the last six months of my life in New Vegas. I know how to take a gamble..." She took a deep breath and lined up the shot, aiming the scope's crosshair just above the first Powder Ganger's head.. Biting the splitting pain in her head, she tensed her finger on the trigger and gently applied pressure, gritting her teeth as the gun's recoil slammed into her shoulder. The shot went wide. _Fuck. _Vociferating a wide vocabulary of curses, Brianna could only watch through the scope of her rifle as the startled Powder fucks drew their weapons, searching frantically for the sniper. Well that plan had done a fucking barrel roll out of the damned window.

"Shoot!" Sunny ordered, moving to crouch down behind the rock next to her. "Go on! You started this! Just shoot!"

She couldn't. Her finger was frozen on the trigger, but she was unable to apply the slightest amount of pressure. She drew herself away from the rifle, a panicked look on her face as she inhaled deeply. Looking into the scope again, she saw him waiting for her, with that silver pistol aimed right between her eyes. _No. _

_"And get this... The game was rigged from the start."_

_"FUCK!" _Without thinking, she lined up her shot and quickly jerked her finger on the trigger. The recoil was strong, but she barely felt it slamming into her chest. There was no time for thought. She needed that bastard out of her head before she got them both killed. Her shot nearly went wide, but she managed to catch the Powder Ganger in the arm, sending him falling to the ground out of sight. Her next shot took the second watchman right in the throat. He was down before she could blink again.

"I can't take them down with a pistol, you know!" Sunny reminded her.

_Next watchtower. _Clenching her teeth, Brianna fired the rifle and hit the third watchman straight in the chest, the bullet tearing right through him. The death of the final guard wasn't just as quick, with Brianna hitting him in the shoulder, sending him to the ground.

"Good job!" Sunny yelled, fighting to be heard over the eruption of gunfire. "The rest of 'em look pretty pissed off, though!"

She was right. The Powder Gangers down below knew of their location and were spilling out from the front gate, about fifteen that she could count. They were yelling in anger and firing bullets into the air, leaving Brianna and Sunny grossly outnumbered. _And they're armed to the fucking teeth with explosives too, _she remembered.

_Thank fuck for that._

Brianna waited for them to get closer despite Sunny's terrified protests, letting them group closely together as they raced up the hill, almost comically enraged that two invisible gunwomen were having such an easy job in screwing them over. The shot would be tricky while her opponents were moving so quickly, but she couldn't see any other option. She quickly lined up her shot at the first belt she saw.

"Get ready for the fireworks..."

She fired.

The dynamite went off with an explosive _bang, _igniting the other explosives that the Powder fucks had tucked into their belts. In a grotesque display of fireworks they exploded high into the air, decorating the sky with streams of crimson. Blood, vomit and vital organs splattered the sand in a satisfying shower. Brianna's head pounded fiercely, her ears ringing from the blast, but she still looked on with a triumphant smirk as the ground below them was splattered with red and blue. They had won.

Sunny looked on with widened eyes, the colour drained from her face. Brianna got to her feet, attempting to reach out a hand in consolation before Sunny quickly moved back, scrambling to her feet. "You... You're..." Sunny's mouth gaped wide open, looking somewhat like a feeding gecko. It was a while before she could speak again. "You're... You're _crazy. _You are b- batshit fucking insane," she managed, her voice a mixture of disbelief and nervous giddiness.

"I saved our lives, didn't I? We didn't stand a chance against those-"

"Did you see the god damned _look _on your face?!" She shrieked. "You looked... _God, _you looked _delighted _with yourself! Don't tell me you actually _enjoyed _that!" On a hasty note she added, "...You... You didn't didn't, did you? Tell me you didn't enjoy..."

"Uh..." She paused, unsure of what to say. Dammit, had she not just saved both of their asses? And that had taken some pretty quick thinking too. Wasn't she allowed to enjoy that achievement? Not to mention the fact that she'd just _obliterated _an angry mob of evil fucks with dynamite.

In the end, all she managed was a deadpan "Yup."

Sunny shook her head in bewilderment before turning to look at the mass of body parts below them, her lips disappearing into a thin line. "And we're... We're travelling together. I'm travelling... With a psychopath..."

"You gotta learn to, uh, love people's flaws, right?"

"... Promise to warn me before you do something like that again?"

"The impulsiveness makes for the show."

"... Promise never to slip a live frag mine into my pocket...?"

"Guess I can do that."

"... Yeah... Then we'll be okay."

They quickly descended the flank of the hill, Brianna gritting her teeth against the piercing headache than lanced in white flashes through her skull. They continued on past the grotesque display of exploded remains until they reached the wired fence surrounding the compound, a rusted gate and a short stretch of dirt separating them from the front door. Brianna fought to pull the gate open until it gave out with a loud, ringing _'screeeeech'. _She had half-expected to hear an alarm going off, but the compound remained silent and undisturbed.

_For now._

"You don't think it'll be a little, uh... Conspicuous if we use the front door?" Sunny questioned, binoculars raised as she scanned the heavy labour grounds for anyone who might spot them. For now the coast remained clear, but she didn't know how long it would take before somebody noticed the disturbance and came running.

"Because _that _was inconspicuous?" She asked, directing to the mess that lay behind them. "And, uh, I was thinking... Remember that time when you asked me to warn you if I do something 'crazy'?"

"Yep, it happened about two minutes ago."

"Yeah, about that... I'm gonna do something crazy."

Before Sunny could react, Brianna unlooped a frag grenade from her belt, yanked out the pink and rolled it out in front of her. It landed with a soft _clink _against the wooden door ahead. Sunny was aghast as she turned to Brianna in disbelief. "What d-" Brianna grabbed her hand, yanking Sunny down behind the dumpster ahead along with her as the grenade exploded, sending a wave of splinters flying over their heads.

"Just go with it," Brianna suggested, and Sunny nodded slowly in response. Together they burst through the newly exploded hole in the wall with pistols drawn, Cheyenne running to meet them before lowering herself down and growling at their heels. Inside they found a group of three terrified Powder Gangers with their own pistols ready.

It took Sunny only half a second to realise their situation sending two bullets flying in the first convict's direction. He fell with a piercing scream and a hole ripped through his chest. The first bullet from another Powder Ganger missed Brianna by an inch as she took him down with a headshot, Sunny finishing off the last before he could even fire.

"That was satisfying," she muttered grimly, holstering her pistol and allowing Cheyenne to lick at her hand as an indication that they were safe again. Sunny shot Brianna a glance. "We gonna clean this place out?"

"That's why we're here, isn't it?" She asked, taking in the area at last. It looked to be a rundown old lounge room, with a couple of tables and chairs pressed against the right side of the room, a large amount of which had been apart thanks to Brianna herself. A desk was situated on the opposite wall, complete with a busted old terminal and some broken beer bottles, their contents spilled out over the floor. Behind the desk was a working fridge and a vending machine, which Sunny quickly made a beeline towards. Brianna moved towards the bodies, wrinkling her nose in disgust as digged through piss-stained pockets. Eventually she came up a number of rounds for her rifle, a few ten millimetre magazines, and, to her immediate disgust (and eventual amusement) a vibrator in someone's back pocket. "What the actual..." With a shake of her head, she moved towards the first aid kit on the wall, digging out a few stimpaks for her own medical kit.

"Cereal bars... Cereal bars... Cereal bars... Cereal bars..." Sunny mumbled, shovelling whatever she could find from the fridge (cereal bars, apparently) into her bag before moving on to the vending machine. She gave it a hard kick and a soft 'clink' could be heard as two bottles fell down. "Now it's a party!" She cried, rubbing her hands together with glee and gathering up the bottles. "And they're ice cold!"

"Could do with an ice cold beer, but I guess that'll do for now. Got everything?"

"Uh, looks like it," she replied, looking around the room. "I don't think we can fit in anything else. You think we could-"

"You girlies need any help in there?" A hoarse voice inquired. Brianna's pistol was drawn immediately, swiftly aimed in the direction of the man who approached them. He swaggered in calmly from the next room and leaned against the door frame. A man of about fifty, he sported a greying beard and a straw cowboy hat. She didn't see any dynamite about his person, but the blue NCRF uniform was enough to convince Brianna that the old man was Powder Ganger, also known as a 'bad guy'.

"Now, now, I wouldn't wanna do that," the stranger said, raising his hands and slowly moving into full view. In the faint light she could see the old man clearly, a thin, frail looking guy with a gaunt face and steelblue eyes rimmed with heavy, dark lines. Looked as if he hadn't slept in days, and hadn't eaten much in all that time, either. Although his face was square and hard, he had been reduced to a scarecrow with a straw hat, his uniform hanging from his skeletal figure. "I didn't do you no harm; shootin' me would just be ill-mannered." His voice was gruff and thick with a strong, old western accent, like from one of those pre-war cowboy movies.

"Not at all," Brianna smiled sweetly, "I would just be saving you the trouble of having to shoot us first. Now, here's what we're gonna do..." Brianna strolled to the other side of the room, keeping her gun trained on the Powder Ganger. "Get on your knees, put your hands behind your head, all that shit. Go."

Surprisingly, he did as he was bade and got to his knees. He even slowly unholstered the pistols at his thighs and slid them across the ground until they hit Brianna's feet. "Happy now, miss? I ain't one of those Powder Gangers you dislike so much; got a lot more self-respect than those murderous bastards. And I'm not askin' for any trouble."

Brianna sat herself up on a table, gun still pointed at the man's head. Sunny looked at her quizzically, but said nothing. "Okay, fair enough. So about you tell me why you're here and what exactly you want. If I see that you're lying, then Cheyenne here," she nodded at the growling canine, "Will tear you to pieces. Sound simple enough?"

"Yes ma'am." The cowboy nodded, "I was dumped here by the good bear-lovin' folks of NCR after a little... Misunderstanding. I used to be sheriff down South in Primm, but after the NCR took over they decided I was a little too... Forthright about my own sense of justice Then those Powder fucks took over this place and I carried on with the little charade, helped them bust out..." Brianna shot him a look. "Now, now, they were gonna do it anyway and I was just savin' my own skin. Anyway, I stayed here as per the request of our present company." He nodded towards the piss-stained body on the floor. "All I want now is to head back to Primm, maybe convince the NCR to let me stay there. Seems like a little too much to ask for, but I guess I have nothin' to lose. Anything's better than bein' stuck in this hole."

Sunny piped up. "Forthright about your sense of justice?" She questioned.

He nodded. "If people in my town don't behave, I shoot them dead," he explained. "The time of so-called 'human rights' is long over, missy. We have much more important things to be worrying about than fair trials, and the NCR only bother with said trials to make themselves look good and fair. You know that as well as I do, miss."

"Don't you have any value for human life?" She asked, though not with any trace of spite that Brianna could hear. It sounded like like a genuine question.

"Indeed I do. Respect for my own life, and for the lives of good people. Not low-life scum and raiders who steal and rape and kill and don't do much of anythin' else. We're better off without them in this world, and whoever says that I don't have the right to decide that is badly mistaken, 'cause I'm the only one will big enough balls to deliver any justice out here."

Brianna couldn't keep quiet anymore, not with a question she was dying to ask. "Ever hear of Regulators, old man? Large organisation of vigilantes, _huge _out east in DC, but not so much out here." He nodded. "Used to be my line of work, and we dished out the same justice you have in mind." She grinned, already finding common ground with the sheriff, much to her own surprise. "Of course, I was in it mostly for the caps, but I can't say I didn't enjoy givin' people what they deserved. One more dead raider is one less person dead... In a sense." She said, ignoring Sunny's flinch.

"Right you are, miss. Right you are." He got to his feet and dusted off his trousers. "Would this be a good time to exchange formalities over a brahmin steak?" He asked, "Haven't eaten in a while. Could use a drink of somethin' too."

Brianna opened her bag and tossed him a small bag of potato fries, which he caught easily in his left hand. "Much obliged," he said, tearing open the bag and pouring the contents into his mouth, abandoning any thought of the 'formalities' he had mentioned. Brianna wondered how long it had been since his last meal.

One the bag was empty the man tossed it aside and stretched widely. "Sorry about that, missy," he said, seeing the perplexed look on Sunny's face. "Haven't eaten in a while, 'case you couldn't tell." He wiped his hand down on his trousers before extending it towards her. "Name's Clifton Meyers."

She took his hand and shook it gingerly. "Sunny Smiles."

After exchanging the same formality with Brianna, Meyers looked at the both of them. "I'm guessin' you're headin' to Primm, right? Or at least passin' through? 'Cause I would sure appreciate the company, and we're both headed down the same road anyway, ain't we?"

"It couldn't hurt," Sunny supposed. "We have enough food to share, and we _are _both headed in the same direction.

Brianna couldn't help but agree. "Then let's hurry onwards."


	8. Reckless

**THE WILD, WILD WASTELAND**

**JULY 18**

**19:29**

Their journey continued until the sun had made its gracious descent behind the mountains, now basking the Mojave with a soft, pink glow. The road was long and empty and Primm was nowhere in sight, lost behind the road's high slopes and mountains. The world was quiet for now, but it wouldn't be long before the wasteland's abominations crept out from their holes to hunt. Brianna could only hope that they group would find camp before then; she'd had enough time with her thoughts for one day, and for the first time since she had returned from the grave, uneasiness was slowly setting in the pit of her stomach. For once she felt as if everything was finally becoming real, everything from her search to find answers, and her own murder which had started it all. Despite the cheery cowboy, the softly humming blonde and their canine companion following at her heels, Brianna had never felt so hopelessly alone. And she didn't like it. Not one damn bit.

"You okay, sweetie?" Sunny asked.

She nodded slowly, but her nervous expression suggested otherwise. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," she mumbled. But she _wasn't._ And she couldn't even put her finger on what the problem was. She had walked this road on numerous occasions before, returning from long trips or heading for a new destination. But that wasn't it. No. No, she knew this road like the back of her hand. _All too damn well..._

"Had enough of the tough chick routine for one night?" Meyers chuckled, wiping his brow with the back of his hand and allowing a wide stretch, his bones cracking audibly. "I can't say I blame ya for not bein' in good spirits. Doesn't look like this little trip's gonna be over before nightfall. Any suggestions on a nice hole to snuggle up in for the night, if you're such a wilderness expert?"

His question was met with silence as Brianna glanced at her Pip-Boy. Seven thirty. No way in hell would they get to Primm before dark, and Brianna didn't fancy even her own chances out in the dead of night, not in this area. The mountains here were a particular hot spot for Deathclaws and Nightstalkers - not a good combination of predators that you'd want to run into. Deathclaws had terrible eyesight, a crippling weakness for most wasteland animals. But paired with their ferocious speed and huge claws that could and would slash a man's head from his shoulders in a single swipe, they most certainly were not the easiest of critters to kill. Or outrun, which was usually your best option. Nightstalkers did a wonderful job of covering up the Deathclaw's weaknesses: their eyesight was highly acute and accustomed to even the darkest of landscapes, and they had a deadly bite infused with icy venom, although they did prove to be less of a challenge if you caught one alone. Which rarely ever happened.

Brianna explained all of this carefully to her companions as they continued further on, keeping her eyes busy as they scanned the surrounding area for any signs of movement. She missed the impressed but worried look on Sunny's face as the blonde was met with the realisation that their journey could so easily come to a permanent halt if they weren't extremely careful. As much as Brianna refused to admit it, even she was prey out here. Only Meyers offered a comment, after a short period of silence.

"Hear that, missy? _Howling,_ and not too far ahead. Comin' from that pathway cutting through the canyon. Coyotes, I'd reckon. If you're such a survival expert, would you have any idea of what that means?"

_Of course._ "We avoid said area and get eaten by Nightstalkers some time later on, or we get rid of that pack and get a nice, juicy coyote steak each." Brianna smiled, already taking a strong liking to the old cowboy. And it was nice being around a couple of people who actually knew how to handle themselves. As well as that, the mere thought of having an actual meal (cereal bars not included) was enough to make her mouth water, even make her forget about her initial reluctance to journey further on through the canyon road.

_A delicious steak with mashed potatoes and mantis legs, with an ice cold Nuka Cola to wash it all down..._

"My thoughts exactly, miss. Can't be too hard takin' them down, and it'll sure be a hell of a lot easier than any other predator we'll find lurkin' up in those mountains. C'mon, I wouldn't wanna spend any more time out in the open. Scoot yer boots."

* * *

They did, and they were near the mountain pass within a couple of minutes. Sunny silenced her humming and walked with her pistol drawn, Cheyenne remaining obediently silent. Meyers led the way with his hunting rifle (which he'd taken from one of the Powder Gangers back at the prison camp) at the ready, and Brianna followed closely suit with her pistol at her side as they trekked through the pass, the howling in the distance slowly fading until all they could hear were the rasps of their own breathing. Brianna hadn't even noticed the cold bite in the air until she saw her own breath forming a cool, shapeless cloud of vapour. The moon was slowly creeping out from beyond the horizon, and the world was growing dark.

"Keep quiet," Meyers whispered. "I'll reckon we'll be taking on the Alpha and his pups; the howling's too high-pitched for any grown coyotes. You alright with killin' baby mongrels?" He asked, the question obviously directed at Sunny, the dog lover, who replied with a slow nod, though her eyes were sad and her expression uncertain.

"Bitches gotta eat," Brianna muttered, slowly edging further along the path until they found the coyote den - a cave, situated right inside the wall of the canyon with the opening being the only visible part. Brianna could see the coyote pups padding around the small den, and what must have been the alpha of the pack was prowling the area intently. It was a truly heartwarming sight, she had to admit, but it didn't last long. Meyers didn't waste a second as he loaded his rifle and blew apart the alpha's head, alerting coyote pups who hurried from their den, their pack numbers now reduced to only five. They charged for the intruders, who set to work instantly. Brianna fired twice at the first pup, wincing as she heard it squeak before falling to the ground. Cheyenne and Meyers made short work of the other three, and Brianna finished off the last with a short spray of bullets. Sunny remained idle, though Brianna felt it best not to say anything. It was done.

Without a trace of remorse, Meyers dumped his rifle on the ground and produced a knife that had been holstered at his side. "Anyone gonna help me with this?" He asked, obviously not expecting a positive answer as he moved to the alpha and sat himself right down on the ground.

"I think I'll pass," Sunny said, averting her eyes as Meyers plunged his knife into the dead alpha's gut. "Someone should scout the area; we don't know what's ahead," she offered, her face growing pale.

"I'll join you," Brianna offered, though she knew exactly what to expect up ahead. She could already feel the cold from the windstorms that blew from miles away. "I know this place. I, um... Delivered a package here before. You won't find anything left, but there's no harm in taking a look, I guess."

Anything would be an improvement to watching Meyers gut the coyote pups.

* * *

Sunny called for Cheyenne and the pair set off down the passageway, leaving Meyers behind to construct their dinner. Brianna followed, leaving her gun holstered at her side. She knew they wouldn't run into anything up here.

"So you've been here before?" Sunny asked."Doesn't look like there's anything interesting. I've never even heard of it, but, uh..." She cleared her throat. "I never hear about much."

"Yeah. I've been here," she replied, keeping her tone as neutral as possible. How long had it been, anyway? A year? Two, perhaps? It had been her second or third courier job, taken just a few months after returning North. She still didn't know what had been in the package, but it had helped to blow the place sky-high and destroy whatever had remained of it. Beyond the mountain pass had been Hopeville, the subject of a huge Big Mountain research and testing area before the Great War. That was all she knew of it. Now the place was nothing but ruin, torn apart by skin-flaying windstorms after it had been destroyed by nuclear weapons. Or at least, that's what she'd heard. But it wasn't the war that had dealt the destruction. That had happened after she'd delivered her mysterious package and been on her merry way. Whatever she'd been carrying had helped to destroy Hopeville and whatever, whoever, had been left inside. Now folks were calling it _'The Divide'._ She wasn't sure why.

_Guess I need to start opening up those fucking packages._

"Looks like the path ends here," Sunny commented, a hint of disappointment in her tone as she directed her attention to the wreckage that lay before them. Just ahead, their path was obstructed by a wall of storm-tossed destruction. The remains of buildings and structures lay ahead of them, along with various car parts and twisted metal that had long since rusted into each other. A dented caravan had been turned on its side; entire billboards lay in pieces, strewn across the sand.

Brianna nodded, keeping her eyes to the ground until Sunny tapped a cautious left hand against her own. "Oh my God," she whispered. "You... You said you'd... You'd been here before...? No way..."

Brianna looked at Sunny with a questioning frown.

"Just... Just look. It... Has your name on it."

She looked up, following the direction of Sunny's nod. And the red lettering suddenly jumped into view. Sprayed right onto the canyon wall was... Her own name, bold and bright and unmistakeably for her. "What the fuh...?"

And then she saw it. All of it.

**COURIER SIX** scrawled on the remains of a billboard. **YOU CAN GO HOME NOW COURIER** painted on a pile of twisted metal. The words were everywhere, written all over the canyon walls and over the wreckage that lay ahead. **YOU CAN GO HOME. BRIANNA O'REILLY. YOU CAN GO HOME. YOU CAN GO HOME. BRIANNA. BRIANNA O'REILLY. YOU CAN GO HOME.**

**YOU CAN GO HOME.**

**YOU CAN GO HOME NOW COURIER.**

She felt dizzy. And then, right in front of her, a sign.

**_Welcome to Lonesome Road._**

It happened all at once. The persistent buzzing in her ears drowned out the sound of Cheyenne's concerned barking as Brianna fell to her knees. An icy hand tightened around her heart. She couldn't see. She couldn't breathe. She was drowning in a sea of red and gasping and shaking and dying and she couldn't she couldn't she couldn't-

Everything went dark.

* * *

"I don't give a shit about your damned steaks, we're not staying!"

"Look, sweetie-"

"Don't you fucking 'sweetie' me!"

Brianna sat against the cavern wall, holding her head in her hands. She had only managed to drag herself back to their campsite before she felt another attack threatening to take over. She didn't know what the hell had happened to her other than what Sunny had told her. She'd blacked out after screaming in pain, tearing at her hair and gasping for breath. Fucking messages had just messed her up for a bit, that was all. She had already succeeded in wiping the memory of that delivery from her mind, and now it was back to bite her in the ass for it.

"Look, swee- Brianna... Let's just talk about this, okay?" Sunny moved to her side, a plastic plate still in hand. "What happened?"

"You know what happened, sure you do. Hopeville, explosion, courier, et cetera? I may have... Delivered a package containing all of the necessary equipment to make the nuclear rockets go _boom shakalaka._ At least, that's what I think it was. That's what it seemed like at the time. That shit on the wreckage out there, that was as much confirmation as I need. It was a taunt, too. Somebody's pretty pissed off..."

She felt a reassuring hand on her arm. "Hey, you don't know what that was and I don't want you worrying about it, okay? Whoever wrote that stuff is long gone by now, and you're still recovering from your injury." She sighed, "Maybe we should have waited until-"

"No." Brianna shook her head, gritting her teeth. _No._ "Don't you dare try and fucking tell me that I should have just stayed in bed until my booboo got better, alright? I'm a big girl, I can handle myself. Fucking hell, just _stop _trying to pretend like your my mother and start acting like... Like... I don't want. A companion, a friend, whatever the hell you want. Just not my mom, not my grandma, not anything else. Let's just eat these fucking steaks, alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, look, I... I'm sorry, okay? You're right. Let's just forget about it." She smiled, and the gentleness disappeared in a flash, replaced by bubbly cheeriness as she bounced up onto her feet. _"Steeeeeaks!"_ She sang, skipping over towards their small campfire and plopping down beside Meyers and Cheyenne. Brianna followed, hearing the longing growls of her empty stomach as she inhaled the mouth-watering scent of juicy, fat coyote meat.

"Nice, hot, juicy steaks comin' riiiight up!" Meyers declared, using his knife to pierce through the steaks which were roasting nicely over the fire. He plopped one on each of their plates (also stolen from NCRCF) as Sunny dished out the mashed potatoes and some leftover fried mantis legs from Doc Mitchell. Despite herself, Brianna smiled widely, and even more so when Cheyenne grabbed the steak from Meyers' plate and went bounding off into the cave. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad night after all.

* * *

"Wakey wakey, sleepyheeeeeead~!"

Her eyelids fluttered. The first thing she felt was a dull pounding in her head, then a hand on top of her as her hair was ruffled by a singing Sunny Smiles. Finally, she felt the long, rough tongue of Cheyenne licking at her face, the dog's warm fur scratching at her bare arms. Her muscles ached from a long day's journey and a longer night of lying on a hard cave floor. She rolled herself over, using her arms to block the piercing rays of sunlight that crept behind her eyelids. "Fuck sake..."

"Rise and shine, sweetie! We have a big day ahead of us!"

She groaned loudly, rolling herself over until- "FUCK!" The pain hit instantly as her injured head hit the cave floor, and she leapt up in alarm, only serving to send the world spinning out of orbit. "Fuck you, Sunny Smiles," she cursed. "And fuck your mother too."

"That's the spirit!" Sunny trilled, tossing a bundle of clothes in Brianna's face before she could even pry her eyes open. "Hurry up and get changed; breakfast's almost ready!"

_Somebody's chirpy._

Mumbling incoherently, Brianna rubbed her eyes tiredly before finally opening them. She had to blink against the morning sunlight at first before her eyes adjusted, but overall she was feeling refreshed after a long nights' rest, though it hadn't been a particularly comfortable one without even so much as a bedroll to sleep on. Still, at least they'd had the safety of the cave, with Cheyenne to keep watch. And Sunny and Meyers had each taken their turn to patrol the canyon, despite having the obedient mutt at their side. They'd even allowed Brianna to sleep on through the night, probably on Sunny's insistence.

Hauling herself up onto her feet, Brianna gathered her armour, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she inhaled the pungent odour of a day's worth of sweat. Damned if she didn't smell like the back-end of a Brahmin corpse. She could only dream about a nice hot shower once they reached Primm, maybe even a hairbrush and some soap...

"Sweetie, you have a hot bod and everything, but you can't stand around in your panties forever. People might start to notice." Sunny smiled, tossing a cereal bar in her direction. Predictably, it landed on the ground. "Eat that when you're done, okay?"

"Uh, sure..." She nodded, struggling her way into the tight armour. Getting the damned thing to fit was a challenge in itself; the thing was tight in all the right ways to accentuate her curves, but uncomfortable and suffocating and unbearably hot. She supposed that was the price you had to pay for looking so damn fine.

"Hey, where's Meyers?" Brianna asked, throwing her rifle over one shoulder and slinging her bag over the other. "He isn't spying on us or making me a delicious breakfast, so remind me, why the hell are we keeping him around?" She stooped down to lift the cereal bar, biting the wrapper off before spitting it out and stuffing the bar into her mouth, only just realising how hungry she was, even after their delicious dinner the previous evening.

"Right over here, miss." Meyers emerged from behind the corner, complete with his straw hat and lazy, southern drawl. "And excuse me for being under the impression that I was 'bein' kept around' because I'm such good company and an amazing cook."

"Whatever, old man."

"Yep. I'm gettin' ridda you two today anyway. If you hurry up your asses, that is. Primm's only 'bout a half mile away, maybe a little more."

"You sure about that?" Brianna questioned, referring to her Pip-Boy. It was seven-thirty - a pretty good time to rise, she figured - and her map told her that Primm was still a stretch away. A stretch that went on for at least three more miles. _Checkmate, old man._ Still, her headache was enough to keep her from gloating about it.

Sunny was sitting on the ground just outside of the cave with her bag wide open. Brianna could see her slowly undressing what remained of her destroyed hand, although her back was turned so that she couldn't see the damage. Honestly, she thought it was amazing that the doc had actually managed to fix her hand up so quickly, especially when she had, uh... Well, she'd basically dragged Sunny behind a rock and left her to bleed out so she could stay and fight off the remaining Powder Gangers. She supposed it really was a miracle that the woman was alive, and for that she had never really been grateful for. She appreciated the company of Sunny Smiles, a lot more now than she'd even realised.

_Alright, what the hell is happening here?_

"Would it be rude to poke fun now?" Brianna asked, moving over beside the blonde and sitting herself down next to her, Cheyenne following closely behind. "'Cause y'know, that hand ain't growing back any time soon." She raised an eyebrow at the small glass bottles of medication that were laid out on the ground, including wads of cotton wool and gauze. She didn't have time to prepare for the next sight to catch her eye. The stump of Sunny's hand had been roughly stitched just below the wrist, but it was already clean healing up nicely, with only light redness around the middle of the stump. Still, it wasn't easy to look at. Thanks to her, Sunny was an amputee, and unless she rolled around in enough radioactive goo to make another hand grow out of her bellybutton, she would remain that way for the rest of her life.

_The price of war, _she supposed.

"Call me Stumpy, or any variation of the name, and I will strangle you with one hand and gut you like a fish with a blade between my teeth," Sunny swore, maybe only half-serious, but Brianna decided it best not to take any chances.

"Fair enough. Just remind me not to supply you with any pointy object."

"Think you've had enough chit-chat for one mornin'?" Meyers interjected, clapping his hands together. "We've got a long way ahead of us and the day is young. We'll make it Primm in no time if you move your asses."

"Sure thing, Sheriff!" Sunny smiled, gently putting all of her bottles back into her medical kit before reaching for her bandage roll, likely supplied by Doc Mitchell. She stared it down for a moment before awkwardly pulling it out one-handedly and trying to wrap it around her stump. The thing uselessly fell away after a few seconds, and the blonde's face grew red with embarrassment. Hesitantly, she glanced at Brianna for help, not saying anything as she continued to blush brightly.

_Fucking hell..._

Offering a warm smile, Brianna took the bandage and pressed the first end over the stump in what she felt was the right place. "Here, let me help with that." Touching the smooth skin felt strange at first, but she soon grew accustomed to the feeling as she gently wrapped the bandage around, careful not to hurt her. She wasn't sure if the stump would still be painful, but she wasn't willing to chance it. Once the stump was neatly wrapped, she bluntly asked for a pair of scissors, which Sunny found after a few moments of scrambling through her medical bag. Sunny cut the bandage herself before sticking it tightly onto the stump with some surgical tape.

"And... _Voila!"_ the blonde sang triumphantly, admiring their handiwork, "Better than Doc Mitchell himself, right?"

"Don't we make an excellent pair?" Brianna grinned, hopping to her feet and dusting herself off before ruffling Sunny's hair. "Now hurry your ass up, I have business to take care of, remember?"

Damn, that was right. Time to go again. She'd let her guard down for too long, with steaks and hair ruffling and sweet smiles. Maybe that worked for a while, but at the end of the day... she was who she was. A bad person with a loud mouth and an addiction to chaos. She liked to kill bad people, sure, but that didn't make her a good person. She wasn't the sweet, kind Brianna who wrapped up bandages and sang to the radio. Sure she liked to work for the greater good and all of that, but most of what she did was either for herself, the money, or for the sheer damned hell of it. When she killed people, she did it for the satisfaction as much as self-protection. She was neutral on every other side but her own. She wanted answers as much as she wanted revenge, and she would stop at nothing to get both. The time for talk and play was over... As much as she hated to admit it. After all, it was nice to feel safe for a while. _But that isn't who you are. Don't you fucking forget that. _Like she didn't know the consequences of doing so.

"And so do I," Meyers called, leaning against the canyon walls with his arms folded. "So I would suggest you ladies save the bonding moments for later and get a move on!"

* * *

They left the canyon behind them and continued down the long road to Primm. The scorching heat of the Mojave was slowly creeping along from the horizon as the sun climbed higher from behind the rocky canyon, lifting their spirits as it went. There was nothing to do but ration out the last of their water (a pathetic bottle and a half) and fill the heavy silence with conversation. Or at least, Meyers seemed to think so.

"So girlies, how 'bout you tell me where yer headed and why. I find that I don't know the slightest damned thing about any of you mysterious ladies. Be good to know that yer not serial killers or nothing, 'cause then I'd have to shoot ya."

Another wince from Sunny. "Uh, well, me and Cheyenne here came from Goodsprings, and we're off on a little adventure, aren't we sweetie?" She bent down to scratch her beloved dog behind the ears, slipping him a small bone-shaped treat from her pocket which Cheyenne finished in a matter of seconds. "I'm here with Brianna, of course. She wanted to, uh, help me out I guess after..." She presented her bandaged arm with a slight shrug.

"Ah yes, that infamous stump. How'd you come to lose that hand anyway? Looks like a pretty recent job to me," he guessed. "Or is Miss O'Reilly holding you hostage after dealing a brutal attack on your poor right hand? Blink once for yes, twice for no."

She laughed. "I wish it was that interesting. Nah, Goodsprings got into a little trouble with Powder Gangers. No fatalities, except for them of course." She grinned. "It was a pretty hairy fight, so I'm told, though I spent most of it screaming behind a pile of rocks."

Meyers chuckled. "Is that so?"

"She isn't telling the story right," Brianna admitted. "She left out the bit where I was tackled by this manic bitch who lit a stick of dynamite and tried to blow us all up. Enter Sunny, who throws her off me, kicks her away, grabs the dynamite and just manages to throw it away before... BANG! Half her fingers - gone. It was all I could do when I cut off the bleeding hand and dragged the hero to safety." She finished, the story complete with wild hand actions and sound effects, making Sunny blush red with what Brianna took for embarrassment.

"Ha, well ain't that somethin'," Meyers remarked. "But I don't see how that could bring you girlies out here, in the middle of the wild, wild wasteland. What're you lookin' for, anyway?"

"A man," Brianna stated simply, returning the steel to her voice in an instant. "Checkered suit, gelled hair, goes by the name of Benny."

"That so? Runaway husband, is he? Father of your illegitimate children?"

"Actually he shot me in the head. Don't think I have to point out the scar."

Meyers was silent for a moment. "You are kidding, ain't ya?"

Both Sunny and Brianna shook their heads. "If I was I'd be drinking, fucking and gambling in New Vegas without a messed up face and a cowboy vigilante asking me questions."

"Huh... Well, that sure is interesting. Guess yer story beats mine, anyway. So where you headed now? Trackin' down the man who shot ya, right? And then what?"

"I'm gonna get answers, and then I'm gonna kill him," she stated simply. As if it would be that simple.

Suddenly, a low, guttural growl emitted from the mongrel at their heels. Sunny frowned, scratching behind the dog's ears. She went on to explain that Cheyenne only growled when she could hear something that spooked her. "She's trained well, so it couldn't be anything else..."

Then she saw them in the corner of her eye, whatever the hell they were. Tiny silhouettes moving erratically in different directions. Brianna felt a hand on her shoulder and she was pulled down behind a pile of rocks and rubble. Meyers crouched by her side, followed by Sunny and Cheyenne, who was snarling viciously.

"Bloatflies," Meyers hissed. "Not too hard to shoot down, but they have venomous saliva like acid, which they spit out from a distance when they feel threatened. They feed on rotting flesh, but they ain't fussy. Fresh corpses'll do just as well..."

"Now would be a good time to make use of that scope, sweetie..." Sunny suggested, keeping her voice hushed.

"No shit." _Shit, shit, shit._

"Just take out a couple, if you can. They won't see you if you keep low, and that thing's got a suppressor, by the looks of it," Meyers offered. "It's our only chance at the minute. They ain't gonna hesitate in shootin' at us the moment they spot us."

"No pressure..." She muttered, leaning low against the rocks and pressing the scope to her eye. She could see about five of the fat flies buzzing around a pile of what looked to be a large puddle of radioactive goop. They were in closer proximity now, just a short stretch away, and she could easily make out their ugly brown faces and huge eyes. _Ugly bastards_. Selecting one of the bloatflies, she focused her aim on the body, but the damned fly wouldn't keep still. Time for some quick reflexes. She estimated where the thing would fly next and focused her aim there, jerking her finger on the trigger as soon as the creature emerged into her sights. Surprisingly, she managed to shoot the buzzing fly right in one of its clear, crystalline wings, sending it falling to the ground with an ear-piercing shriek. The muffler did its job and the flies didn't hear the shot being fired, but they did appear to be more alert than before, and their flight patterns growing increasingly erratic. _Fuck._ She would never hit another one.

"Give it to me," Sunny ordered sharply, nodding her head towards the rifle.

Brianna blinked. "You can't-"

"Prop it up on the rocks, okay? Just there..."

Brianna did as she was asked, moving away slightly to allow Sunny room. Her expression was doubtful as Sunny lay down against the sand and moved the scope to her eye, keeping the rifle in balance with her bandaged hand. Her right hand was clumsy as it adjusted the rifle. Brianna saw her finger brushing against the trigger. She fired, the gun slamming against Sunny's shoulder, but she swallowed her cry of pain. Brianna peered up from over the rocks and saw that only three bloatflies were left. Sunny had managed to shoot down the second.

"Shit..." Brianna muttered, watching Sunny stick her tongue out in concentration as she took down the next bloatfly. And the next. And finally, after a few long moments, the last bloatfly was shot through the stomach, releasing a wild, agonised shriek as it died. "That's... Something..." Brianna managed, enjoying the proud expression Sunny wore as she moved away from the scope with a triumphant smirk.

"Just leave things to the pro next time," she sang.

Meyers looked on with a dumbfounded expression. "My god, girly!" He exclaimed, his tone one of incredulous disbelief. "Now that _was_ somethin' special."

Sunny beamed and handed the rifle back to Brianna, who struggled for words. "Where the hell did you learn to shoot like that?" She asked, ignoring the fact that the woman had not only taken down four rapidly moving flies, but she had done it with only one hand.

Sunny faltered. "Uh, someone taught me. A friend, I guess..."

Brianna looked doubtful, but didn't say anything more. She got up, taking the rifle and slinging it over her shoulder before offering Sunny a hand and yanking her up. "Nice shooting, sweetie!" She teased. Sunny rolled her eyes in response.

* * *

"And here we are!" Meyers declaring, standing atop the hill with his hands on his hips as he took in the glory of Primm, just a ways down the road. "Ladies and gentleman, I believed we have finally reached our destination!"

"It's about time," Sunny remarked, and Cheyenne barked in confirmation, her tail fiercely wagging in anticipation. "Alright, go on. Take a sniff," she ordered, and the dog went bounding off down the hill, a blur of white and grey.

Brianna eyed the town silently through her binoculars. From their place atop the hill she could easily see beyond the high walls and iron fences, and into the streets inside. It was a small place, probably only a shadow of what it had once been before the world went crapsack. The remains of the pavements were cracked and destroyed, leading up to two large buildings in the centre. She could make out the sign on only one. The Bison Steve, a casino made up of crumbling, dusty redbrick. It wouldn't be in any way remarkable were it not for the big ass roller-coaster situated behind it. The lights surrounding it were busted and dead, and all that remained was the track itself, hardly sturdy but surprisingly intact.

"Nobody's on the streets," Brianna noticed with a frown. "And it looks like your buddies at the NCR are camped out just outside, flying their little flag... How cute."

Meyers grunted in response.

"Well, what are you girls waiting for?" She asked, lowering the binoculars and stretching widely as she made her way down the hill. Her headache was stronger than usual, but it wasn't enough to slow her down. Play time was over, after all, and she couldn't let anything distract her. She had been allowed time to forget herself, but now... Things were different. She could feel something changing as the group reached the NCR encampment. A watchman who jogged up to greet them.

"Hey, you three'll want to remain on this side of the wall unless you wanna get shot," he warned, his expression stony and his eyes dark. "Hurry along now."

They didn't. "NCR don't shoot civilians," Brianna pointed out. "So who's in there? What's going on in Primm?"

The trooper hesitated, sighed, and motioned for them to come closer. "Behind the shack, and keep quiet. Never know when those bastards are gonna start taking potshots," he grumbled.

They did as they were ordered, keeping low in case they were seen by whatever 'bastards' were skulking around inside the town. They all managed to fit behind the small structure which the trooper had been looking out from, and even Cheyenne could squeeze in next to her master. The trooper released a long, defeated sigh before he explained. "This town has been taken over by a group of convicts that recently escaped the NCRCF prison."

"Powder Gangers?" Sunny asked.

"Not this time, thankfully, but they come from the same bunch. We don't know what they're calling themselves yet and it doesn't matter. Point is, we're stuck out here until... Well, I don't fucking know. Until something happens. The captain could probably tell you more, but he's up to his ears in problems already, as it happens. Gotta make it seem like we're doing something." He shrugged.

"And why aren't you doing anything?" Meyers asked, an icy tone in his voice.

The exhausted soldier let out a dry, humourless chuckle. "Look at us for Christ's sake. We're done. We're outnumbered, outgunned, and morale's already run dry. We're out of food completely and ammo's not much better. There's no way we could run them out of here. The Legion's wiped us clean and we're barely holding it together as it is, I just..." He paused. "Look, I don't know if I should be telling you this; you are civilians, after all, but... We're fighting for the people, right? That's what we're supposed to be doing. But dammit if we haven't grown desperate, just taking and taking and taking until we can't defend ourselves against a bunch of fucking convicts that escaped out of our prisons." He shook his head. "I don't know. Man, I just wanna see my family."

Meyers nodded solemnly. "We all know how that feels, soldier," he assured him, patting the man on the shoulder. "Keep up the good work and all that for now. Things will turn up, eventually," he promised.

"So what's the plan, sweetie?" Sunny asked.

The trooper interrupted before she could even answer. "Sorry, miss. I don't know what the fuck the NCR are trying to do, but me... It's my duty to keep civilians safe. I'm afraid I can't let you go past."

_Wrong answer, buddy_. Brianna released a light sigh and turned to the man, her stony expression melting into a sincere expression of sadness. "Look, soldier..." Forcing herself to forget about the scars marking her face, she brushed her hair from her eyes and drew herself up slightly to subtly draw attention to her curves and chest. "I know what I'm doing. And I really, really need to get in there. You don't understand, I..." She pursed her lips and pointed to left side of her face. "Someone did this to me, and I will live in pain for the rest of my life. I need answers quickly, and this is the first step forward to my recovery. Do this for me and I _swear_, I will do _anything_ to make it up to you," she promised.

The trooper cleared his throat awkwardly, shuffling in his heavy, earth-coloured armour. "Uh, well, uh, if you think you can handle yourself, miss, then..." Again he cleared his throat.

Brianna smiled sweetly. "Thank you, soldier. That means a lot."

The group were off quickly, leaving the soldier to stand awkwardly and think about what he'd done. Brianna smirked as they headed for the entrance, unable to hide the feeling of smug satisfaction as Meyers commented on just how 'persuasive' she could be ("Shoulda took you for a Black Widow all along. Damn, girl").

Before they could reach the wooden pathway that lead into the front gates, however, they were halted by a booming voice emitting from the cluster of tents. "Stop! Don't take another step further!" A man's voice barked. Brianna turned around to find another soldier, slightly older than the first, hurrying towards them. "Lieutenant Hayes at your service, civilians. And I'm afraid I can't let you through."

"We got permission from the man just over there," Sunny began.

"The permission of Private Bales won't protect you against those proximity mines, civilian." He stated, nodding towards the wooden bridge ahead of them. She couldn't see them at first, but Brianna soon noticed the flashing LEDs. _Shit._

"And that's how they're keeping you out?" Sunny asked.

The Lieutenant cleared his throat, struggling to maintain his composure. "Negative, civilian. We, uh... I'm afraid that it's NCR business, not to be discussed with, uh, civilians like yourselves," he stammered. "Move along, now."

"You cowardly bastards," Meyers muttered with a shake of his head.

Brianna wasn't as passive. "You're fucking keeping them in there?!" She screamed. "What? So they can kill each other before you have to lift a finger?! You sick, pathetic, cowardly-"

"We had no other option," the lieutenant explained, somehow managing to keep his voice calm, though it raised an octave as he spoke, "And as I said, it doesn't concern you."

Meyers pushed through Brianna and Sunny to spit on the soldier's boots. "And you dare question my morals, 'soldier'. Shippin' me off to the slammer so you could sit here with yer thumbs up yer ass and condemn these innocent people. You oughta be ashamed."

A trace of recognition flickered in the lieutenant's eyes. "Ah, Clifton Meyers," he said, keeping his tone neutral. "Looks like you managed to escape with the other convicts. Are you also calling yourself a Powder Ganger now too?" He asked. "I'm afraid we'll have to..." He shook his head with a long sigh. "Fuck. We're desperate, here. If you can get rid of those mines then feel free to go on ahead. We need all the help we can-"

The deafening_ 'boom'_ of twenty mines exploding at once silenced the lieutenant, serving to almost blow him off his feet in the process. Brianna stood with her pistol drawn, still aiming it at the remains of the bridge and staring at the soldier with icy contempt.

"Glad that's settled. Now get out of my fucking way."

* * *

**AN: Okay, so I've been enjoying the writing process of this story _immensely. _It's only my eighth chapter so far, but even still I'd like to say a huge, huge, huge thanks to anyone who's been reading and enjoying it. I'd like to encourage you to review this story if you like it, and review it anyway if you don't. I appreciate every criticism (as long as it's constructive) and seriously, even the shortest review makes my entire flippin' day. Also, if you're interested, I'd be more than happy to add in any original character you have in mind, even if only briefly, for some fun and to perhaps make for some interesting encounters.**

**Oh, and a late disclaimer: All credit goes to Bethesda Softworks. Everything belongs to them except for my baby, Brianna O'Reilly. This story is rated T for VERY strong language, violence, gore, sexual themes, character death, and everything else a story can be rated T for. Expect a lot of blood in the later chapters. Thanks for reading and reviewing. You're great :)**


	9. In With A Bang

**PRIMM**

**JULY 20**

**08:45**

"Aw, great! Now you've really fucked everything up!"

Brianna leapt over what remained of the makeshift wooden bridge, ignoring the lieutenant's outraged screams. She caught only a few words of his angered rant, something about death and hostages. But no matter. She unholstered the 1911 at her thigh as Meyers and Sunny crossed the remains of the bridge to meet her at the town's entrance, Cheyenne closely following suit with an alert bark. They'd probably alerted every convict in the town with the explosion, but as Brianna passed through the wall, she found that the place was dead and empty.

For now.

"You think they're inside with hostages?" Sunny whispered, frowning as she scanned the deserted roads. The place was quiet and eerily still, although it hadn't been much livelier when she'd first arrived to take the courier job. Still, the silence was unnerving.

Wordlessly, they continued on, passing the run-down Mojave Express building as they went. Half of the structure was derelict and crumbling; parts of the roof had collapsed in and the redbrick was slowly falling to dust. The half of it that remained standing upright was used as the main office building, but the elderly couple that worked there seemed to live in it as well. Brianna didn't spare the place another glance until Sunny's voice bore through the heavy silence.

"Oh my God," she breathed, edging slowly closer towards the building, her eyes wide and fixated on the pavement. "Brianna, I... This looks like... Oh my God..."

Brianna frowned, directing her attention to the spot where Sunny was pointing. Her own eyes widened in alarm as she saw the body of a young male slumped against the wall. He couldn't have been older than eighteen, Brianna decided, with dark skin and blue overalls. The corpse's eyes stared far off into the distance, wide and unseeing. She noticed the package in its splayed right hand first, a crude brown parcel, now untied and lying open to display its contents. On closer inspection she saw the glint of something silver. _No. Not silver._ She stooped low to retrieve the parcel's contents, holding it up for Sunny and Meyers to see. It was a chess piece. At first glance she assumed it was a king or queen, but in full view now she could see that it was a pawn. A pawn made of platinum.

"Looks like this guy was a little less fortunate," Brianna muttered, eyeing the gaping gunshot wound on the corpse's head with disgust. The bullet had gone right through the middle of his skull as had been intended, spraying blood and brain matter over his pressed chequered shirt. _Didn't even bury this one, _she thought grimly.

"Best not stick around too long; we don't know who's watching us. Weapons ready," Brianna rapped, reluctant to spend another second next to the stinking corpse. Her own pistol was already in hand as Sunny drew her own. Meyers kept his own pistols holstered at his thighs, and instead readied the Beretta rifle at his back. Silently, they moved towards the large building standing across the road to their left. Brianna leaned against the rightmost wall, Sunny and Cheyenne soon joining her.

"Old Poseidon gas station," Meyers muttered, moving further towards the back of the building."And a small shack just outside it. That'll be our only cover if we wanna get any further. About five of them out there with hostages, up by another old shack just ahead. There's gotta be more, though, and we ain't in the best of positions to go takin' them all out. Don't wanna alert the rest of 'em that might be inside."

"Then we do this quietly," Sunny suggested. "Finish off the guys over there first and get the hostages freed." On second thought, she added, "Or we could take out the masses first, but I don't see any sign of 'em, and it might be dangerous for the hostages. Plan for action, sweetie?" She asked, looking to Brianna.

"We take 'em out one by one," she replied, "with you taking out the guys holding hostages and Meyers and I taking out whoever's on the other side of this building. Or whoever's on the inside, if that's the case. All you have to do is free the hostages and shoot the convicts. Think you can do that?" She asked, receiving a short nod in return. "Okay, when you hear the first shot go off, take cover behind the first shack by the station, then take those fuckers out, alright?"

She didn't wait for a response. Letting Meyers maintain his cover behind the building, she peered around the edge of the wall to see a group of at least four convicts patrolling outside the Bison Steve. Three more were hanging further back. Brianna quickly rushed for the Mojave Express and ducked behind its ruined left side, gradually making her way behind the cover of the intact building. From here she could peek out and take a few of them down with her rifle before they realised what was going on. _I'm fucked if Meyers doesn't know what he's doing._

Brianna glanced at the old man from behind cover, and he nodded in confirmation. Setting her pistol aside, she shrugged the rifle off her shoulder and moved into position. Lifting the scope to her eye she could see the nearest convict swaggering towards the Mojave Express. _Shit._ Aiming for the neck, she slowly pressed against the trigger and the first shot was fired, exploding into the silence. Brianna watched the convict as his eyes widened in alarm, and desperate instinct drove him to desperately claw at his throat, blood gushing from his mouth and ears and dribbling down the front of his armour. He was on the ground in a matter of seconds, desperately twisting his body around to search for the sniper in the shadows. He never found her.

In the distance she heard a short grumble of _"What the fuck?"_ before another shot cracked through the air. Meyers emerged from cover, aiming right for the head as another convict moved towards them, the rest slowly realising that they were being attacked and springing into action. _'Bout time._ Another convict took Brianna's bullet in the chest, sending him down before he could take another step. She sent another bullet flying through his skull, just in case his armour had absorbed the first.

"Now this is true frontier justice!" Meyers hooted, sending another shot through the convict's chest before diving back behind the cover of the building to reload his rifle. Brianna shouldered her own rifle and reached for her pistol, sending three shots whipping through the air and into the chest of a nearby convict who had been running towards her with a baseball bat firmly grasped in both hands. Leaping out from cover and out onto the road, she found three more criminals ganging up on the sheriff, who managed to take another down before Brianna finished off the remaining two.

_"Happy fucking birthday!"_ A voice called, and Brianna could only look on in stunned alarm as the convict lit a stick of dynamite and tossed it in her direction. _Fuck!_ She threw herself behind the wall of the casino, dodging the worst of the explosion, which sent a lance of pain shooting through her skull. Deafened, she looked around frantically for Meyers, not seeing him until another shot went off, downing the final convict.

"And that is that," Meyers concluded, shouldering his rifle and rubbing his hands together with glee. "Better go check on Sunny. Things are pretty quiet over there."

Brianna nodded, and together they moved quietly towards the back of the casino, pistols held ready in case they were cornered. They headed quickly along the back of the building before turning-

"Hold the fuck up!" A voice threatened. "Or Sheriff, Grandma and Stumpy over here get blown to pieces!"

Brianna stopped dead. Meyers did the same at her side. In front of the dilapidated shack kneeled the group of hostages, each one gagged and bound with duct tape. An elderly woman with dark, weather-beaten skin wore a stony expression as she stared down the convict in front of her. To her left was a pale middle-aged guy with silvery hair who looked about ready to piss himself with fear, and to her right was Sunny, her face bright with the shame of being captured, although the fresh corpses littered around the area indicated that she had put up a strong fight before they'd finally managed to take her down. Like that changed anything now.

"Ah, shit..." Brianna groaned, slowly raising her pistol towards the first convict, who seemed to be the one in charge. He was wielding a flamethrower, she saw, and was aiming it at the row of hostages. It would seem that the other four were simply there to look threatening, three claiming their own hostage to aim their pistols at, and one more swaggering over towards them with a lead pipe swinging lazily at his side.

Brianna huffed out a heavy sigh of irritation. Dammit, she really didn't like hostage situations. Negotiating with idiots was such a _bore._ "Look, I'm gonna make this real simple," she explained slowly, looking to the flamer-wielding convict. "I am going to shoot _you_ in the head. Then, my friend Meyers is going to shoot this guy here." She nodded at the man now standing next to her. "And then I'm gonna kill all of your friends. _Okaaay?"_ She explained everything painfully slowly, stretching out every syllable in case the dumb bastards didn't understand what she was promising.

The flamer guy barked out a dry laugh. "I'm gonna torch your fucking friend, you dumb bitch. So lower the fucking gun or I swear to god I will fucking kill all of you and save this one-armed bitch for last, do you fucking hear me?Do you, dumbass fucking bitch?!"

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Brianna asked, jerking her finger on the trigger and splattering the hostages with the convict's brains. Meyers got to work immediately, sending a bullet flying towards the remaining angered convicts (who had seemingly forgotten about the purpose of their hostages) and taking the first one down without hesitation. Brianna quickly twisted her body and grabbed the pipe-wielding man next to her, dropping her pistol in the process and wrapping him in what she thought was a headlock. She planted a hard kick on the back of his shin before yanking the pipe from his grip and cracking it over his head, leaving a very satisfying dent in the back of his cranium before turning to the remaining convicts, all of which were too concerned on the bullets flying their way to worry about Brianna, who quickly bent to pick up her pistol and fire six ringing shots, all of which hit one of them in the chest, before quickly reloading.

Meyers was quick to take down another convict, sending a bullet straight through his head as Brianna finished off the last with a final shot through the chest, sending him flying to the ground. She didn't waste any time after that. They had none to spare. "Help me out here," she rapped impatiently at Meyers, kneeling down by Sunny and producing her knife from its holster. After tearing the tape roughly from the woman's mouth, she began to saw through the tight knots binding Sunny's left hand to what remained of her other wrist.

"I'm so sorry... I messed up..."

"Yeah, it's fine," Brianna muttered, distracted by her current task of cutting through the woman's binds. "What happened, anyway?" She questioned. "I thought we were all clear on the plan."

"It doesn't matter," Sunny replied quickly, as the restraints came loose and Brianna could finally tear them off. Sighing with relief, Sunny brushed herself down and took Brianna's hand to get back on her feet again. Brianna noticed that she now had a long cut on the side of her cheek, still oozing blood. "Help me out with the others," Sunny rapped, moving towards the elderly woman next to her.

Brianna nodded and moved towards the 'sheriff' who was still shaking visibly with shock, his face deathly pale and splattered with crimson. She quickly got to work with the tape on his wrists, Sunny doing the same with the woman beside her after gently removing the tape from her mouth. After ripping away his restraints, she roughly grabbed the edge of duct tape at the man's mouth and ripped it off, drawing a loud cry of pain. _Brave guy. _Although he looked to be in his mid-thirties and wore a sheriff's duster, the guy looked about as capable of running a town as Cheyenne was. "Who- who a-are you?" He stammered, clambering to his feet and quickly moving away from her, "What do you want?"

"These kindly people just saved your sorry behind," the elderly woman clucked, getting to her feet and angrily wiping the blood from her pink frock with an angered scowl. "So a 'thank you' would be greatly appreciated, I'm sure."

"Uh, yeah, th-thank you..."

Brianna shrugged. "Pleasure."

"Any of you kindly folks know where I could get a stiff drink?" Meyers asked, stretching his arms widely. "Wouldn't mind a little sit down before I kick this cowardly bastard out on his ass. God knows this place could use a sheriff that doesn't shit himself when someone goes 'boo'." He eyed the trembling man with distaste.

"I-I'm deputy, sir," he quivered, "Deputy Beagle."

"Yeah, yeah. Me an' you are gonna have a long conversation once we're inside somewhere cozy, you hear me, son?" He patted the deputy on the shoulder with enough strength to nearly knock him off his feet. "Now, if this lovely lady wouldn't mind," he nodded towards the elderly woman, "I would appreciate some reintroduction to the locals."

"Of course, sheriff. Right this way."

* * *

"Home sweet home, at last..."

The door swung shut behind them and all conversation fell silent as the group entered, Brianna feeling particularly jovial despite her current situation. The smell of booze hung in the air and a light cloud of smoke was visible in the darkened room, illuminated mainly by a row of floodlights on the ceiling, each one directed towards a small blue car that served as the casino's centrepiece. The place was patrolled by a cheap Securitron with a cowboy hat, and a row of slot machines whirred on either side of them, though most were busted or lying broken on the floor. So the place wasn't exactly New Vegas, but as far as cheap knock-offs went, this one looked almost welcoming, despite the fact that all of the locals were gathered here hiding from convicts and each of them carried a gun, some even aiming them at the double doors for a moment until they were certain that the newcomers weren't here to blow them all up.

"And you must be the ones who kicked those convicts out on their asses, ain't that right?" The voice came from a wrinkled old man who strolled over to meet him. His widening eyes flickered with recognition as he examined the group and found Brianna. "Well I'll be damned. Looks like ol' Mister New Vegas ain't gone crazy after all. Nice to see yer still kicking, Miss Six. Lookin', uh, bright and breezy as usual..."

"Nice to see you too, Johnathan." Brianna flashed the old man a smile.

"Eh, Joshua, actually," He corrected. "And nice to see you too, Sheriff." He tipped an imaginary hat to Meyers. "And you too, missy." He nodded to Sunny. "Guess we have all of you to thank for saving our asses. Even brought back my lovely wife, safe and sound." He beamed, holding a hand out to the old woman they'd saved, who had already introduced herself as Ruby Nash. The old lady's face warmed instantly as she wrapped her arms around her husband for a long, warm hug.

After a few lingering moments, Meyers awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well, now that that old business is cleared up, I wouldn't mind a stiff drink courtesy of the beautiful Mrs Nash." He looked to the old woman who was still blushing brightly as she pulled away from her husband.

"It would be the least I could do, dearie. Have you had anything to eat yet?"

"No ma'am, but I would certainly appreciate one of your delicious casseroles. And I believe my humble acquaintance here has some business to discuss with your husband."

Brianna gestured towards her scarred head in confirmation.

"Ah, of course. I can see that you'd want some answers about that old business up on the hill. Our little home in the Mojave Express won't fit all of you, but Ruby will fix something up for you at the bar. I could use a couple o' drinks myself..."

"I think we all could," Sunny replied, scratching her mutt behind the ears.

The followed the elderly couple to the backroom of the casino where the bar could be found. It was nothing more than a long bar table with a number of stools, and two shelves on the wall were lined with bottles of alcohol. A working fridge could be found on the wall next to the door, a welcome sight for the three thirsty companions.

Brianna found herself a stool next to Sunny as Joshua Nash searched the fridge. After a few moments of rummaging and the clinking of bottles, he produced two beers in each hand and set them out on the bar. "Help yourselves to whatever else you need," he insisted. "I see that Miss Six and I have some matters to discuss."

"You're damned right," Brianna grumbled.

"Well, I'll scoot back home and cook you all up something," Ruby Nash said with a smile. "I shouldn't be more than half an hour if I can get that old grill up and running." And with that she hobbled off.

Brianna swung around on her chair to face Joshua Nash, who had seated himself just next to her. "Right. Business."

He nodded. "You comfortable talkin' about this here?"

"Trust me, I couldn't care less at the moment." She grabbed a bottle opener from the table and opened her beer with a click and a hiss. "Dammit, I haven't thought too hard about this," she realised, taking a long swig from her bottle. "What can you tell me about the job? I need all the details you can spare and nothin' less."

"Yes, yes, of course. It was a strange job, that one. Six couriers - including yerself, of course - were sent up to New Vegas to deliver a number of different things. Five of 'em were completely worthless. A chess piece, a fuzzy dice, a keyring... Things like that. All platinum, but we never got a reason why. You carried what I believe was a chip of some sort."

"I did," she confirmed.

"Yep. Not sure what it was for, but it was special alright."

"Special how? How did you know?"

He sighed. "Somethin' strange about it, somethin' wrong. Actually, if my memory serves me correctly, you weren't the first one to be offered the job. There was a man before you, see, never told me his name. Strange guy, always wore this mask. There he is all set until he sees your name next on the list. Asked me if the name was for real. I said 'sure as lack o' rain, Brianna O'Reilly's still kickin''. Then he pulled out, just like that. 'Let Courier Six carry the package' he said, like the Mojave would sort you out or somethin'. And that was the last I ever saw of him. Just walked on out. Bastard."

"Okay." _What the fuck?_

"Do you know who gave the delivery order, at least?" Sunny pressed.

The old man shook his head. "Everything was paid up front, so no questions asked."

Shit. Guess there was only one thing left to ask. "Did you see a man in a checkered suit? Gelled hair, old world suave thing going on? Went by the name of Benny, though folks probably called him 'cocksucker' or 'jackass'. Anything along those lines, actually. Sound familiar?"

"Huh... Yeah, I saw him snoopin' around here. Came up to ask me a few questions about deliveries, but he was vague enough about what he asked. You should ask Deputy Beagle. Just try not to frighten him too much. Don't want him shittin' his pants or nothin'."

Meyers got to his feet abruptly. "Yeah, I think I'd like to have a good long talk with that son of a bitch about how he's been runnin' my god damned down."

Brianna and Sunny stood up to join him, thanking the old man on the way out, although he hadn't exactly been the greatest help. They found the Deputy standing by the bullet-riddled car in the centre of the casino, pretending to read the signs surrounding it. Poor bastard was still white as a sheet, probably still trying to get his bearings after almost being burnt alive. Brianna didn't sympathise.

"Beagle," she called, seeing his eyes grow wide with panic as he saw her approaching him. "I think you have some information for me. Care to tell us anything?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about. I-I don't know anything about what happened, those convicts they- they just came in and I didn't mean to-"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Y-yes ma'am..."

"You saw a man in a chequered suit around here, 'bout a week ago, right?"

"Uh, n-no, I..."

"Cut the crap, yes you did."

"I don't know what you-"

Meyers grabbed him by the shoulder. "Speak up, sir, or I might personally demonstrate some frontier justice on your sorry ass. Tell her what she wants to know. You don't have 'nothin to hide, ain't that right?"

"Okay, okay, yeah, h-he was asking me some questions, t- that's all. Somethin' about, uh, c- couriers and the Mojave Express. Somethin' about a guy that lived here and a chick named Six. Mentioned a few other people too. Wanted to know where they were going." Brianna shot him a deathly glare, and Sunny breathed a short command to Cheyenne, who began to growl immediately. "I- I didn't know, I swear! I just told him I didn't know anything and then... And then a gun went off in the middle of the night and- and he killed Daniel and went off. Had these Khans with him, man and woman were all I saw but I heard there were others."

"Did they say where they were going?!"

"Uh, said something about, uh, going to Goodsprings and then..."

"Why?"

"Uh, because..."

"Because_ I_ was headed there!" Brianna screamed, lunging for the man and grabbing him by the collar. "You fucking knew, didn't you? I saw you at the bar that night I stayed over, remember? You heard, you knew where I was going, didn't you? Then I leave town, you tell Benny and his goons, and they intercept me before I reach my destination. You have three seconds to tell me just why the fuck you would even dare."

Beagle looked close to tears. "They cornered me, alright?!"

"You cowardly _fuck."_ She spat the word in his face.

"I'm sorry, I..."

"Listen to me, you piece of shit," she hissed, her tone deathly calm and laced with venom. "That bastard shot me. In the _head._ I will live in _pain_ for the rest of my life. I will be scarred _forever_ because you... Couldn't... Keep... Your fucking mouth shut!" She swung from him, her fist connecting with the right side of his jaw. She shoved him backwards as he cried out and hit him again. And again. And and again. "Where the fuck are they?!" She demanded, raising another fist.

"Nipton! They're going to Nipton!" He cried, backing away from her and gripping a nearby podium for support. "I don't know why, I swear! I swear! Don't hit me again! Please!"

"Why?! Why were they going to Nipton?!"

"I don't know!" He wailed. "I don't _know!"_

"Brianna."

Sunny's voice was stern, knocking Brianna back to her senses. "Leave him. You know everything you need to know. Just let him be."

She shot an icy glare at the cowering deputy before taking a short step back and reluctantly lowering her fist. "Fine. We're heading to Nipton first thing tomorrow morning. Meyers, you wanna talk to this bastard or what?"

He clapped his hands together. "Would I ever. It's been real nice, girlies. Hopefully I'll see you 'round sometime. Now I gotta get back to runnin' this damned town and talkin' some sense into those who find themselves..." He looked at Beagle, "... Incapable of doing so in my place. Safe travels now. Hope you get what yer lookin' for, darlin'. And you too Miss Smiles, whatever that may be." He tipped his hat to them both.

"You really think the NCR are gonna give you back your position?" Sunny asked, a hint of doubt in her tone.

"I'd like to see them turn me down after I saved their sorry asses," he grunted. "And if all else fails, we did uncover some interesting information on their current state up here. How badly they're doin' and all that. And I am not impartial to blackmail."

"Huh," was all Sunny had to say to that.

'"Well, good luck with that," Brianna smiled. "See ya, sheriff."

They said their final goodbyes and Meyers left, taking a cowering Deputy Beagle with him. "What do we do now, sweetie?" Sunny asked, watching the sheriff go as she crouched down to hug her dog tightly. "Some of Mrs Nash's casserole sure sounds good," she beamed.

* * *

They joined the Nash family for a pleasant dinner, the topic of conversation mainly controlled by Joshua Nash. They talked about old music, with old jazz and hard rock being the old man's favourite. They went on for a while about the vault they grew up in and the cattle ranch they used to own. Although the topics of choice were far from lively, the two were a sweet couple, and Brianna enjoyed their company for a while as they ate. The radscorpion gland casserole smelled delicious, but Ruby had smacked it out of Brianna's hand just before she put it in her mouth. "You have a busted lip, sweetheart," the old lady warned. "If that radscorp' poison hits your bloodstream it'll kill you stone dead. Here, you can have my potatoes..."

They left at around eleven with the promise of a free room waiting for them at the Vikki & Vance casino. "Just one?" Brianna flashed a teasing smirk as the pair made their way back to the casino. "Won't that be fun?"

Sunny raised an eyebrow and made a point of taking a long sidewards step away from her. "No thanks, sweetie. Keeping things on the buddy level, alright?" Her tone suggested that she wasn't as serious as she tried to make herself sound, "And try not to molest me in my sleep or anything, okay?"

"No promises."

"Well, good luck trying!" She sang. "Cheyenne will defend my innocence to the death, won't you, sweetie?" The dog let out an uncertain _'aroo?_' in response.

Together they managed to find their room and Sunny immediately fell onto the bed, Cheyenne leaping up to lie with her master. The room itself was large enough, with a double bed big enough for Brianna to fit beside the tiny blonde. Much to their surprise, the room was actually quite nice in its own shabby, unkempt way. A working lightbulb hung from the ceiling and two posters had been taped onto the walls, one with a beautiful woman in a red dress and the other of a handsome man with huge hair and a strange white suit. They were labelled simply 'VERA' and 'THE KING'. Across the room was an open door revealing an en suite, with a fully intact bath, sink and toilet. There was even a polished mirror on the wall. _Not bad for a New Vegas knockoff._

"So, sweetie, what do you plan on doing?" Sunny managed from below Cheyenne, who was now lying comfortably on top of her.

"Right now... I'm gonna take a bath," she replied from the en suite, stripping off her armour and kicking it onto the floor before heading to the bathtub. After a few minutes of nothing but the sound of trickling water, Brianna called, "It's warm! We have hot water!"

"And once again I have to see you in all your glory," Sunny called.

"Don't pretend you aren't totally into me." Brianna grinned from behind the door of the en suite, her grimy underwear now abandoned on the floor. "Feel free to join me if you want!"

"Pass."

Smirking, she turned to the mirror and examined the healing scar on her face. It looked better, at least, and it was losing its rough texture as it healed. She noticed that the scar tissue had grown a shade lighter, which was probably a good sign. The rest of her cuts and bruises were slowly healing and, overall, she looked a lot less like shit than usual. "Hey, Sunny!" She called, "Mind bringing me a med kit? And my bathroom sex offer is still standing if you want it?"

"The med kit should do for now, I think." Sunny appeared at the door, red medical kit in hand. Her face was a mixture of shock and alarm as she found Brianna naked in the bathroom, examining her wounds closely. "Ooooh, oh, _oooookay!"_ She made the point of averting her eyes and handing the med kit over to the naked woman. "I think I've, uh, seen enough of you for one day, sweetie..."

"Trust me, sweetie, you ain't seen nothing yet," Brianna promised, flashing the blonde a wolfish grin before taking the med kit from her. Sunny nodded slowly, eyes closed as Brianna rooted through the bag for a stimpak. She winced visibly as she slid the needle into her neck, though the painkillers worked almost instantly and drove away the stinging. With any luck, the stims would heal up her scar tissue completely until it was only a shade or two darker than her own skin, with the same smooth surface. She had heard that back in the old days, people would take months, even years to heal without stimpaks. _Guess nuclear war has its advantages._

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Brianna set the empty syringe on the sink and slid into her bath, the water now steaming hot, just the way she liked it. Closing her eyes, she dunked her head under the clear water and allowed her hair to soak. The water was painful on her healing wounds, but the stims would fix that after a while.

"Sure, sweetie. What is it?"

Emerging from the water, she grabbed a nearby towel to wipe her eyes with before looking at Sunny, who moved to sit herself down on the toilet lid. "What happened out there, with the hostages? How the hell did they manage to tie you up like that? You only have one cut."

Sunny blew out a sigh. "I don't really-"

"Come _on,_ Sunny."

"Okay, okay... I knew the guy, alright? Mister Flamethrower? Yeah, I, uh... I knew him, before he got banged up by the NCR. He was... Well, I, um... I guess was a friend of mine. Kinda..."

Brianna lifted an eyebrow. "A _friend?"_

"We travelled together for a while. He got hooked on chems and then he was arrested by the NCR. I couldn't bring myself to kill him and I panicked, then they managed to tie me up. That's all that needs to be said, alright?"

She stood up and left the room, allowing the ringing silence to return.


	10. Out With A Whimper

**A NEW VEGAS KNOCK-OFF**

**JULY 21**

**O7:26**

She was shoved unceremoniously from the bed as the first rays of sunlight peered in from the tattered curtains. The sound of running water could be heard from far away, and Brianna released a low, inarticulate grumble as her headache made itself known again, thumping fiercely against her temples. Damn, how she _wished_ she could sleep for another hour, at least. Her eyelids were heavy from the fog of early morning grogginess, and her muscles ached from the hard bed and long day of walking.

_For fuck sake..._

Forcing her exhausted limbs to cooperate, Brianna sat herself upright and pressed a hand against her right temple in a pathetic attempt to dull the slow, drumming pain. Her legs felt clean and smooth as she brought them up against her chest, and she took slow, deep breaths until the pain dulled. At least she felt somewhat clean again, smelling of soap and warm blankets. Even her hair felt soft and fluffy as it fell lightly over her face in gentle waves.

She slowly got to her feet, gripping the edge of the bed for support as she finally got to her feet. After a wide stretch, Brianna rubbed her eyes and looked around to see Cheyenne sitting just outside the bathroom door. By the sound of moving water, it would seem that Sunny was enjoying a bath on the other side of it. She doubted that the blonde would be out any time soon, so Brianna groped for her rucksack underneath the bed and searched for her clothes. She had already scrubbed her metal armour clean, so she decided that the garment would be best for their trip and began to put it on, her limbs still leaden and clumsy from hours of blissful disuse.

Ah yes, the trip. Where the hell were they headed, anyway? She knew a few routes to Nipton, but times had changed since she had last been this far south. Other than her first visit to Primm to receive her package, Brianna hadn't been spending much time in outside of Vegas, and things were changing rapidly with the growing tension between the NCR and Legion. Or at least, she'd heard as much. How could she possibly know which route would be the safest path to take, and which one would lead her into a Cazadore nest? _Looks like we're going in blind, then. _And why the hell would Benny and his goons have been in Nipton anyway? The place was a playground for raiders and whores, none of which would care for a platinum chip. But it was their only lead to follow, after all. At the very least, they could stop at the Outpost for a drink on the way there.

Brianna blew out a sigh and glanced at Cheyenne, who was staring inquisitively back at her. She wondered if she had any chance of getting past the terrier and into the bathroom. Deciding to chance it, she moved to the door, staring the dog down for a moment before gripping the doorknob and making a point of slowly turning it. The mutt moved out of the way without a sound of protest, thankfully, and Brianna slipped inside, shutting the door behind her and resisting the urge to sink down against it in defeat. Damn, her head pounded.

"Woah, do you mind?!" Sunny squeaked, reflexively moving to cover up her bare chest and sink down low into the bubbly water, concealing everything but her neck and upwards. "Private area! I closed the door for a reason."

"I gotta brush my teeth."

Sunny groaned, "Would arguing with you be pointless and needlessly time consuming?"

"Indeed."

"Fine. Just _don't_ look."

Brianna smirked and lifted her newly acquired tube of toothpaste from the sink. She squirted a row of the white paste onto her finger and ran it under the water for a moment before sticking it in her mouth and beginning to 'brush' away the morning breath, ignoring Sunny's look of bewilderment. "I ont av a toofbwush" she managed.

"I noticed..."

* * *

They were quick to get ready after that, Sunny throwing on her beaten leather armour and boots after drying her hair with the only towel that didn't have a gaping hole or two torn through the middle. They spent another half hour sitting on the bed with Cheyenne and rationing what remained of their food and water supply, the radio whispering soft lyrics in the background about beginning again in the night. It wasn't long before they were off again, singing along to whatever pre-war crap was playing on Brianna's Pip-Boy as they returned to the NCR encampment just outside of Primm.

"Hey, where the hell do you two think your going?!"

Brianna stopped, her hand instinctively tensing on the butt of her pistol as she looked around to see the familiar angry face of the NCR guy from earlier. _Commander Hayes, right?_She frowned. The guy looked pretty pissed off as he approached them, his arms straight at his sides and his nose lifted high into the air.

"Uh, problem, Corporal...?" Brianna asked.

"Lieutenant," he spat in return. "And yes, I'm afraid that there _is_ a problem. You two directly disobeyed NCR orders, endangered not only the hostages in Primm, but also our troops out here, and those further out in the Mojave Outpost. Not only that, but you have sent us an ex-convict to take over Primm. This is an outrageous defiance against the New California Republic, citizens, and we will not take this lightly." He narrowed his eyes at the pair.

"Well how about you just shove your f-"

"We're very sorry, lieutenant, but I assure you that we _only_ wanted to help." Sunny said quickly, interrupting Brianna mid-sentence.

"Help?! In what way could you possibly have been trying to 'help' us? By blowing up the only thing that was separating those convicts from our exhausted troops and stopping them from progressing further to the Outpost? What you two did was nothing but barefaced rebellion against the New California Republic, and we are in no longer in any position to take such offences lightly," he repeated, his expression stony.

"What offences?" Brianna snapped, beating Sunny to the punch. "Did we hurt your poor fucking feelings? You're gonna have to suck it up, lieutenant, because neither of us committed any damn crime."

He chuckled. "You really are an insolent little brat. You both committed acts of violence and murder by taking the law into your own hands and killing those convicts in an unnecessary, unprovoked attack, going strictly against NCR orders."

"They were taking shots at us!"

"Which is why you were instructed to leave in the first place!"

"Don't play that shit with me; you were desperate! You never even tried to stop me!"

"Can we all just calm down?!" Sunny squeaked, standing on the balls of her feet in a rather pathetic attempt to make herself seem taller.

"This is your first and final warning," he glared at the pair with icy contempt. "These are dire times, and any actions against the NCR will no longer be tolerated. Another offence and you will both be marked as enemies to the NCR, and we will shoot you down on sight."

"So you _are _shooting civilians now, is that it? Because you're just too fucking desperate to even-"

She was met with a stinging slap across the face, throwing off her balance and snapping her head to one side with an alarming amount of force. "You watch your mouth around me, girl, I am a lieutenant of the New California Republic and you will treat me with respect, do you hear me?!"

"Lieutenant, I think that's enough..." The trooper on lookout called from his position. "You can't shoot her down for having a mouth on her. Just let her past and save yourself the trouble."

Brianna held the right side of her face and shot an icy glare at the lieutenant. "Son of a motherf-"

"Brianna, _leave it,"_ Sunny hissed, before looking apologetically at the lieutenant. "We're very sorry about this," she babbled. "I assure you that it won't happen again."

He nodded slowly, and the pair continued on without a word until the blur of mud coloured tents were far behind them. There was nothing ahead but road and sand, just as Brianna had always loved. In the distance, she could see two giant rangers shaking hands. She knew a woman from a while back who claimed that the statues were simply built so the NCR could wave it's dick all over the Mojave. She hadn't been wrong. Who the hell spent that much time compacting vehicles and garbage to make that metal monstrosity anyway? _Military cunts._

"What the hell was that?" Sunny snapped, folding her arms and looking expectantly at Brianna. "I get that you have this 'thing' where you don't want to play by anybody else's rules, but dammit Brianna, what the hell were you thinking? I know you don't want to realise this, but the NCR are _above _us. They're are an _army, _okay? And then you go and try to piss every single one of them off by running your mouth. You just can't _do_ that, okay?"

"What the hell did you expect me to do? He was being an asshole."

"This place is _full_ of assholes!" She stated incredulously. "You just have to grow up and understand when to back down. I don't wanna be lined up and shot because you couldn't keep your mouth shut."

"Look, I wasn't prepared to wait for those damned convicts to pack up and leave. What I'm doing is _way_ too important for that. I was just doing what I had to, and those NCR fucks were desperate enough to let us go through without a fight. So tell me, Sunny, where exactly did I go wrong?"

"You don't care about anybody but yourself, do you? I am _so_ sick and tired of risking my life for you without a single word of appreciation, without even a 'thank you' or any indication that I'm actually helping you! You have no regard for anyone else; you don't think about a single damned thing that you do! They had _every_ right to line us up against a wall and shoot us for what we did, whether you agree with them or not, Brianna. Because sometimes, it just doesn't matter how _you_ feel! Just use your head for once before you get us both killed, alright?!"

There was nothing but the sound of footsteps for a long time.

"We can stop at the NCR Outpost to trade," Sunny stated dryly. "There's nothing tying me to you, and we can part ways right after that. If you don't want to put up with me, that's your problem. Think about that."

"Look, you..." She gritted her teeth. _This is gonna get real soppy real fast._ "You know I don't wanna lose you, Sunny. Alright, maybe I fucked up a little, I..." She steeled herself. "I'm _sorry, _okay? I don't regret a damn thing I said to those sorry sons of bitches, but I _am _sorry. I'll keep my mouth shut next time. Maybe."

"That's... All I needed to hear. Thank you," she replied stiffly.

Brianna nodded, and they continued to walk in silence, only passing by the occasional crow until Cheyenne began to growl softly, lowering her body and refusing to move any further.

"What is it, Cheyenne?" Sunny whispered, reaching for her binoculars. There didn't seem to be anything ahead aside from a small building close by. Brianna couldn't find any signs of movement until Sunny lowered her binoculars to quietly point out the group of people in the near distance, most likely convicts from the NCRCF. _Shit. _She could make them out well enough, and there seemed to be at least four in the group, but that was already enough to outnumber them. Still, they'd taken on a lot worse. Brianna reached for the rifle at her back, prepared to snipe whoever was in close enough range.

"You sure about that, sweetie?" Sunny inquired carefully, reaching for her own pistol.

"I can take care of it," she insisted, keeping low as she moved off the road and into the brambles. She was still in relatively clear sight, but if the convicts were as brain dead as the one's they'd met in Primm, then they would begin by searching for her on the road. Finding reassurance in her ridiculous plan, she pressed the scope to her eye and carefully lined up the shot on some female convict with a ridiculous purple mohican. She jerked her finger on the trigger and flinched as the recoil slammed against her, the shot clearly going wide, but it seemed that the convicts didn't notice. Silently thanking Chet for the weapon's silencer, she went for it again. Aimed...

A chorus of gunfire erupted suddenly, making Brianna jump in fright. She saw Cheyenne bounding forwards as the convicts ran for them, and Sunny had fired three ringing shots in their direction before Brianna could even ready her weapon. She moved out from what little cover she'd had, seeing Cheyenne tearing out the throat of the purple haired woman.

"Brianna!" Sunny called, aiming her pistol towards her. _Wait, no... _Something behind her. Sunny fired a shot that whizzed past Brianna's ear as she swerved around, assault rifle at the ready. A group of about five more convicts were racing towards them from behind, alerted by the gunshots. Most had knives and cleavers, although she saw two armed with pistols. Jumping backwards, she quickly sprayed the area with a wave of bullets while frantically looking for a place to find cover, and finding nothing but a stretch of brambles. She managed to take down the first shooter with a spray of bullets tearing through his chest, and Sunny's bullet skimmed the leg of the second before another caught him between the eyes. All that was left to do was dodge the incoming swipes of cleavers. Another bullet from Sunny took down one of the remaining convicts, as Cheyenne ran towards them and sunk her teeth into the arm of another. Brianna quickly moved to reload, groping around her belt for another magazine, but she found only her four remaining frag grenades and a case of bobby pins. Throwing the rifle aside, she moved for her pistol before a searing pain cut through the unprotected fabric of her right arm. "Fuck!" She yelled, a hard blow to her leg putting her down. Before she could react, she felt her hair being gripped tightly as she was yanked back up, the icy bite of a blade pressed against her throat. "Ah, great," she groaned, the tremor in her voice betraying her fear, "I fucking _hate _hostage situations..."

"Stay back blondie, or I'll fucking kill her!" The man behind her threatened, with all the loud, doubtless confidence of a guy hopped up on chems. She could feel how unnaturally tense his arms were as he held her. _Psycho. _A rare enough drug, but his shaking muscles and the alarming strength of his grip on her hair was enough proof for her. Brianna remained still, her breath hitched in her throat as she looked to Sunny with an expression of wide-eyed terror. With the drug coarsing through his veins, this guy could smash her head in with a single punch, and detect every one of her movements before she even fully made them. Sunny took a few steps back with her gun half-raised, unsure of what to do as the convict pressed his cleaver more closely against Brianna's throat. She felt the lightest trickle of warm liquid flowing down her neck. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill her!" He warned, obviously without a clue of what he was doing. He planned on killing them both anyway, so she didn't see the point in the wild theatrics.

Sunny fixated her gaze sternly on a spot in the distance, somewhere behind Brianna. After a quick nod of her master's head, Cheyenne leapt into action, diving for the convict and ripping into his throat. As his face was mauled by the animal, Brianna felt the cleaver breaking through her skin. The blade hung limply from his hand, but she could feel the blood flow immediately as it ran cold along her neck. The man's screaming was muffled in the distance as she pressed her palm tightly against her throat, eyes widening in shock. _No. No no no no no FUCK FUCK FUCK_. She didn't know what to do or how badly the wound would be and hadn't she seen something like this in a movie before and somebody had told her what to do here and all you had to do was put pressure on it but blood was spilling between her fingers and _nononononono..._

_"Brianna!_ Shit, shit, shit!" There was the sound of rummaging and scraping and more hands against her neck and rummaging and scraping and something warm and soft and comfortable for a moment before it was almost strangling her, wrapped around again and again and again and she couldn't breathe fuck she couldn't breathe or speak and then she was gasping and then...

"Shit..." She croaked feebly, her vision spinning widely as she attempted to grip the sand to steady herself, pressing against the slash on her thigh._ No no you're okay it's okay you're overreacting fuck just stay calm you can do this fuck no fuck fuck fuck fuck can't can't can't. _A cut throat and a shot open head and a bleeding leg and god dammit it was too much just too fucking much and she couldn't... She couldn't... Fuck she just couldn't cope and she couldn't breathe and she was blind and she was choking and sobbing and the sand flowed through her fingers and in her hair and she couldn't couldn't couldn't do it and why the fuck couldn't she breathe and... And...

"Brianna, sweetie, are you okay? Just- just calm down... Brianna..." Her shoulders were shaken and she didn't want to open her eyes and it was all just too fucking much and there was the explosion and the shooting and the killing and the cleaver and it hurt and hurt and fuck there was just so much, so much and she never cared and never cared and now...

"I don't... Know... What to... Do..." She gasped between sobs, her body trembling and her heart was beating in quick palpitations and it slowed and stopped and accelerated and slowed and stopped and her head pounded and everything hurt and _ohmygodohmygodohmygod stop stop stop._

"Just, uh, just take deep breaths. Uh, in and out slowly..."

_Shutupshutupshutup. _She fought for breath, but everything was too loud and too bright and it was all too much and she couldn't keep her damn eyes open. Sunny's hushed voice was screaming at her and she had to get up becase what kind of woman like her had breakdowns anyway and why the hell couldn't she just shut up and breathe just breathe just breathe just _breathe._

"In and out, okay? Just breathe... Breathe slowly..."

Okay. She could do that. Just breathe slowly. In. Out. Slowly. Calmly. She was overreacting. She just had to breathe. Just breathe. Just open her eyes. Just breathe. Just breathe. Slowly. In and out. Just breathe because she couldn't keep making a fool of herself and she was the strong one and she just had to get up... Get up...

She just breathed.

"Fuck, I... Shit... Shit, shit, fuck, dick..." She took long, deep breaths, feeling her heart slowing to a steady pulse. She moved her fingers and felt warm sand slipping through them. She realised that she was lying down in the sand, the soft grains brushing against her face and tangling in her hair. She blinked against the sunlight and slowly brought herself up with shaking limbs. For now it seemed like she could breathe again, though every sharp inhalation was ragged and uneven. Pain stabbed through her head and chest as she drew her legs up closer to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and burying her head between her knees. "I, uh... I'm okay now, I think. Yeah, I... I'm okay..."

Sunny seemed reluctant to touch her, but gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as Brianna peered upwards, adjusting her eyes to the light. "What... What was that?" She asked. "A panic attack? I- I'm not Doc Mitchell, so you have to tell me what happened. Has it happened before, or...?

She didn't know. She didn't know what had happened, it was like a... "P- Panic. Panic attack," she managed. "Just a stupid, f-fucking-"

"Hey... It's okay," Sunny said gently. "You don't have to be ashamed about it; you don't have to cover it up like it was nothing. It's fine. You think you can get up?"

Brianna nodded, slowly climbing to her feet and wincing in pain at her new newly acquired flesh wound. _I just had a fucking mental breakdown, _she thought angrily. _And in front of someone else. _What the hell was with her? She didn't panic about things. Never.

Brushing the sand from her armour, she moved to collect her assault rifle and swung it around her shoulder, turning her back to Sunny and looking towards the bodies. "Do we do anything about these?"

"You mean move them, or...?"

"Loot them."

"Yeah, I guess. We should probably find some ammo on them, at least."

Brianna moved to first body without a word, only seeing the corpse for its loot, and not for the man it had once been. She silently gathered up whatever pistol ammo she could find, tossing half of it to Sunny, who did the same in return. The convicts hadn't been holding anything else of worth, aside from a few stray sticks of dynamite and some spare rounds for her rifle, so Brianna stood up, ignoring her swimming vision and the pulsating agony in her head. After every body had been picked clean, she began to finger her bandage gingerly. The thing was tight around her neck, staunching the blood flow and doing nothing for the sting. The cut was probably little more than a scratch, but that didn't do anything to reassure her. If it had torn through a vein or an artery, no bandage would have stopped her from choking to death on her own blood.

"Don't ever bring this up again," Brianna warned.

"Understood." Sunny nodded, packing up her things and calling Cheyenne to her. The dog had been busy sniffing around the dead bodies and wiping her bloodied muzzle in the sand, causing a long episode of sneezing until the grains were out of her nose again. _Dumb dog._

The rest of the journey was uneventful, the two being disturbed only once by a trading caravan passing by. After selling off their dynamite and some useless ammo they were on their way again, passing by an old Poseidon gas station before they found themselves at the bottom of a large, sloping hill lined with old, twisted automobiles of varying shapes and sizes.

"What the hell are these?" Brianna wondered aloud, running a hand along the peeling black and white paintwork of a strange vehicle with lights on top.

"That's a police car, sweetie," Sunny informed her happily. "Y'know, for the law enforcers back in the day. People who drove around and stopped crime."

"Vigilantes?"

Sunny laughed. "The non-violent kind. They had pistols, but they mostly just broke up fights, I think. Stopped people from breaking laws, and put them into prisons if they did."

"Huh. Weird..." She muttered, passing the car and eyeing an even larger vehicle with bemusement as they continued up the road. It was oddly shaped; the front of it looked like the front of a car, but larger, and the rest was a long straight line of metal carrying a massive container of some sort. "And what's this? Since you're so smart and know everything about the old world."

"That's, uh..." She blinked at the vehicle. "I don't actually know..."

Brianna nodded. "Pre-war days kinda sucked, right?"

"Not really. From what I know, people didn't have to fight for their lives and live on scraps day by day. They had their own food, clothes, a warm house, a family... Think about it. What do you actually own that completely belongs to you? Something that was given to you, not stolen."

"Uh..." She faltered. She wasn't one for keeping mementos, really.

"Exactly."

"Okay, fair point. But it must have been so _boring. _What did they even do back then, other than start a nuclear war and eat packaged food?"

"They started families, got jobs, went to-"

"And what's enjoyable about that? About doing the exact same fucking thing as everyone else? Raising kids, doing shitty, boring jobs for a wage they can spend on houses and puppies and cars. Sounds ridiculous."

The conversation died quickly after that; talk of pre-war days seemed to annoy Sunny for some reason, and Brianna couldn't tell why. It wasn't like she had ever experienced them, so really there was nothing to miss. And why would she want a _family_ anyway? Families were great until one of them got shot and you had to leave them behind, or when they finally sent you out on your ass to fend for yourself. Families served only to slow you down and make you feel bad about it.

"So, uh, how's your...?" Brianna gestured to Sunny's stump, the bandage now removed to show clean, freshly healed skin.

"Fine," she replied quickly. "I mean, being one-handed sucks and it feels weird and I can't use a damned rifle, but other than that, it's okay."

Brianna frowned at the stiffness in Sunny's tone; she didn't know what was wrong with the blonde and she wasn't willing to ask. All she wanted was to rest to her legs and have a drink - preferably an ice-cold beer - before they continued on to Nipton, and they looked to be nearing the top of the hill. The NCR rangers now loomed above, casting a cool shadow over the pair as they moved onward.

* * *

"Well, this is it," Sunny remarked as they finally reached the hill's summit. The Mojave Outpost was nothing remarkable, consisting of only two buildings and far too many travelling caravans. Traders of all sorts were passing through, selling wares or resting themselves in an enclosed strip of land around the main office building, a shoddy brick structure of peeling white paint. The bar was just beside it, surrounded by a dilapidated chain link fence, and Brianna spotted an NCR sniper nested on the top of the building, leaning over an upturned wooden table and peering through her scope. Dotted around the area were a few brahmin and broken down caravan vehicles that hadn't moved in decades. She recognised the place from when she herself had passed through on occasion, and it hadn't become any less shabby and crowded since the last time she'd stopped in.

"Nipton's that way, right?" Sunny asked, standing on her tiptoes underneath the ridiculous statues and pointing towards a spot far into the distance behind them. With black smoke billowing into the air. She raised her binoculars and peered through, gnawing on her lip for a few moments. "From what I can see it looks... Bad. A lot of smoke..."

"Huh. Sniper looks pretty anxious up there. Think it's been hit by Powder Gangers?"

"That would explain the smoke, I guess."

_Dammit, dammit, dammit. _Her heart sank. If Powder Gangers had got the place, they wouldn't leave anyone else alive, for certain. So that was their lead gone, just like that. Blown sky-fucking-high by Powder Gangers. What the hell did she have left?! _Nothing more than wisps of fucking smoke._

"Shit!" She checked her Pip-Boy just to be certain, and of course, she found a small logo to the east of the Mojave Outpost marking Nipton, just a stretch into the distance. "Fucking asshole bastard cunts! _Shit!"_

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," Sunny said earnestly, lowering her goggles and scratching Cheyenne behind the ears with a sad expression. "We could check it out if you want? If anything, that sniper up there might appreciate it, so it wouldn't be a wasted journey."

"Yeah," she replied bitterly. "C'mon, I should have enough for a couple of drinks and a bite to eat."

"Sure thing." Sunny smiled, and together they headed for the bar, going unnoticed by the surrounding caravaneers and mercenaries that were scurrying like rats through the chain link fence to find rest by the NCR headquarters. The entire structure was a brahmin ranch gone wrong, with travellers and merchants being herded in like cattle and making just as much noise.

Sunny pushed the door open after a moment of deciding whether Cheyenne would be welcomed inside, and Brianna quickly followed suit, allowing the door to fall shut behind her. Only a few people were seated at the bar, none looking up from their drinks to welcome the latest newcomers. A barmaid whom Brianna recognised as Lacey was polishing glasses from behind the counter, and hunched over the bar and staring into a glass of whiskey was a red haired woman in a straw hat. Brianna's eyes widened in surprise as she eyed the woman more closely, recognising the red chequered shirt and her jacket of brown leather.

_No fucking way. _

"Cass!" She moved towards the bar and swinging her legs over the nearest seat. "Holy shit, it's _actually _you!"

Rose of Sharon Cassidy looked up from her drink with a disgruntled expression and eyed the courier for a moment, an eyebrow raising in question as the faintest trace of recognition flickered behind the aqua hues of her cautiously narrowed eyes. "Brianna O'Reilly?" She asked, her tone just as unreadable as always. Brianna could only detect a mixture of bemusement, and what sounded like slight annoyance.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Brianna asked, still shaken with disbelief.

The redhead sighed, looking reluctant to continue the conversation already. "Shit got bad, alright? Fuckin' caravan's gone. Burned to ash along with the driver, and they didn't even take the fuckin' cargo. They just fucking burned that too; I barely got out with my ass still intact. Bastards kept takin' shots at me 'til I was real far away. Guess that's just my fucking luck, letting you go off and play vigilante in DC 'steada savin' my sorry ass. So here I am, drinking away my fucking sorrows."

"You _dick. _Rose of Sharon fucking Cassidy told me three years ago that she'd be fine on her own, and that I was just holding her back. _'Don't stack yer chips 'less you're holding the other players families',_ you said. Remember?" She sighed. "Shit, Cass... You're an idiot."

"Finally!" She exclaimed. "I am gettin' real sick and tired of hearing stuffy NCR _assholes_ passing through, hitting on me and telling me how sorry they are that my life is _fucked. _But you were always an arrogant little bitch. Glad to see the Renegades didn't turn you into a complete pussy like the rest of these cunts out here."

"Yeah, and you haven't changed a bit either. Still haven't dropped the hardass dyke routine."

"Shut up - I've slept with more guys than you."

"Oh yeah, I forgot you were a skank."

Cass smirked and knocked back another drink, draining the half-filled glass in a matter of seconds. "Haven't missed you one bit."

"Don't pretend you aren't happy to see me."

She heard Sunny jumping onto a seat next to Cass, Cheyenne seeming to go unnoticed as she lay down by her master's feet. "Am I missing something here?" She asked. "Looks like a reunited couple to me." She looked to Brianna with a mischievous grin. "I didn't know you were the type, sweetie."

"Oh, right, uh... Cass, this is Sunny. Sunny, this is Cass."

"Nice to meet you," Sunny beamed.

Cass signalled to the barmaid for another drink. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. This ain't some glorious reunion party, got it? I'm drinkin' to forget, and I'd like to do that in peace."

"That'll be your last one, Cass," the barmaid warned.

"Whatever the fuck you wanna think, Lacey," she shot back.

Brianna shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wondering how to proceed. This woman had been her best friend for a long time. She couldn't just sit down and watch as Rose of Sharon drank herself to death, could she? And yet... Cass _had _given her plenty of reasons to leave in the first place...

She swiped the bottle of whiskey out of Cass' hand.

"What the fuck-?" She slammed her fist down on the table and rose to her feet. "Give me my fucking drink and get the hell out of here if you like the shape of your god damned fucking nose," she threatened.

Brianna stood up to her feet. Lacey's hesitant warnings faded into the background as she faced the drunk woman. "Cass... What the fuck happened to you? Because I _refuse _to believe that you just gave up after losing the caravan."

"Ain't none of your business, Bree. Last warning: Back the fuck off."

"No. Come _with _us. Pack your shit and leave this place once and for all."

"And why the fuck would I wanna do that?"

"Huh, I don't fucking know! Maybe so you don't drown yourself in alcohol, for a start. Come with us, and it'll be just like it was back West. Pumping bullets into the assholes that tried to get in our way, remember? Why wouldn't you-?"

"I fucking _can't, _alright? Contract stills keeps me here, even though it's dead and burned to ash like the rest of the _fucking _caravan. "

"Then _fuck _the contract! They don't hold anything over you, and they can't keep you here."

"Yeah, they can. Just _try_ telling Jackson to let me loose_. 'Roads are too dangerous'_ he says. _'You'll get killed if you go out there'. _Like, no fucking shit. I didn't spend the last five years holed up in a fucking bunker; I know what the roads are like! Washed out old fuck-up." At this point she was blatantly slurring her words, barely managing to lean against the bar for support as her legs wobbled beneath her.

It was Sunny's turn to pitch in. "Hey, you've been through a lot and they have no right to keep you here, no matter what they say. Your contract's dead and gone, just like you said. And no offence, but you're not exactly doing anything out here, so why would they bother tracking you down if you just, you know, left?"

"Look, kid, there's nothing else for me now, not out there and not in here." She sat herself down again on the bar stool. "So gimme my drink and get the fuck out."

"Fuck you, Cass." Brianna took a swig from the bottle before sliding it across the bar. "Go on, take your damned drink and _rot_ in this place for all I care."

"Brianna..." Sunny began hesitantly.

"Right, right. 'Cause that's better than joining you and your little buddy. We'll go out adventuring into the wastes together and the best time of our lives? Fucking right." She rolled her eyes.

"We'll sort it out, alright?"

"Brianna, is this... Is this a good idea?" Sunny asked.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Cass inquired, her tone venomous as she swiveled around on her bar stool to face the blonde.

"What I mean is that I look at you and see a washed up caravaneer with a foul mouth and a bad attitude," Sunny retorted.

"Woah, woah, woah, what did you just say to me? 'Cause you sure as hell have my attention now."

"What I'm saying is, I can't imagine what good you'd do if you came along. Sure you act tough, but look at you! Drinking yourself into a stupor and slurring curses at anyone who tries to help, that sure is big of you."

"Keep talkin' to me like, sweetie, and I will make myself your worst fucking nightmare. I'm not gonna say it again. This ain't like the 'good ol' days', Brianna. I'm _done. _And don't pretend you ain't either."

"What the fuck are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying it's done_. We're_ done. Take your little friend here and get the hell out."


	11. Ain't No Maker to Meet

**MOJAVE OUTPOST**

**JULY 21**

**NOON**

_"Wow. _What kind of twisted, ignorant asshole would send a fucking albino to the Mojave desert?" Brianna wondered, eyeing the sniper with a raised eyebrow as the group headed up the wooden ramp, Brianna with her thumbs tucked casually through the loops of her belt, and Sunny with a small handful of dog treats which she was slowly passing to Cheyenne.

"What kind of stupid, ignorant asshole would sneak up behind an elite NCR sniper, loudly mock her and expect to turn around and walk away with their head still intact?"

"Ooooh, _scary. _My apologies, trooper; please don't shoot." She raised her hands in a mocking display of fear before moving to sit on a rickety table positioned just next to the sniper, who tracked the courier's movements with narrowed eyes hidden by a pair of large sunglasses.

"Mmm, very funny. What do you want, civilians?"

"Answers." Brianna replied. "Like, are all NCR troops so fu-?"

"Answers _would_ be helpful," Sunny interrupted sharply, leaving Brianna's mouth hanging open mid-sentence. "We were wondering if you knew anything about what's going on in Nipton. Powder Gangers, maybe?"

The sniper nodded with a disgruntled scowl. "That's what Jackson seems to think, but I've been watching closely for a couple of days and I haven't seen any convicts heading up from NCRCF, and trust me, it isn't a quick journey. None of 'em could get here through Novac without the NCR at Ranger Station Charlie doing anything about it. Or at least, that used to be the case. Now it looks like all we're doing out here is turning a blind eye to what's really going on around gang territory while we sit on our asses and wait for the Legion to kill us in our sleep." She sighed. "And all I can do is sit out here and watch it all happen."

At this information, Brianna brought up her Pip-Boy and searched for her map. The controls were proving to be surprisingly easy to get used to, and she was viewing the outpost's general area after no more than five seconds. "No alternative routes to Nipton that the NCR wouldn't know about, though there looks to be some canyon cutting through from just nearby. Cowardly NCR fucks couldn't even-"

"Hey now," the sniper warned. "We're doing the best we can right now under the circumstances. I know things aren't great at the minute, but supplies are tight enough as it is. Payment's been cut and morale's long since gone out the window. You can understand why our superiors don't wanna send out any more troops."

"And to compensate for that you're gonna rob everybody blind with taxes and pretend not to notice the swarms of armed convicts marching down past your own stations, right?"

"Leave it, Brianna," Sunny snapped.

"... What's the quickest way there?"

"Uh, okay... You're gonna wanna exit from here past the statues just out there, right? Then continue going north-east until you find the huge, black smoke trail. Follow that until you get to Nipton, and don't get killed any time before that."

"Wow. Thanks."

"Pleasure. Come back and let me know what's happened. If there's trouble, I'm not asking you to put your lives on the line; just hurry back here and give me any information you can."

"Got it. Let's hit the road."

* * *

It didn't take long for them to get past the rows of twisted auto-mobiles littering the slope of the hill. The real trouble would be what was up ahead. The vast, merciless expanse of the Mojave desert in all of its barren, empty glory beckoned them. A small dust storm looked to be kicking up in the distance - the perfect camouflage for fire ants and bark scorpions. The mountains around them would be the home of golden geckos and nightstalkers, and those were the critters that only got mad when you shot at them. But the Mojave offered no other route but onwards, and the three could probably outnumber - or at least outgun - a group of wasteland monstrosities or raiders, if they were lucky. Probably. Still, Brianna kept her rifle close, spending most her time looking through the scope and scanning the area for danger.

"Another adventure, huh?" Sunny smiled.

"Whatever you wanna call it."

"Yeah, yeah. Um, I was wondering... Are you sure you're alright with what happened to your friend? You know, the one in the bar? Because if you want to, I don't mind-"

"It's fine," Brianna snapped. "Just fuckin' fine."

"You don't... You don't wanna help her?"

"Sure I do. But I've seen her type before, and they don't want help." She lowered her rifle, slinging it over her shoulder and continuing along the road past the rusted remains of an old bicycle.

"I understand..." She trailed off, and for a moment it seemed as if the rest of their journey would be continued in silence. It didn't take long for the blonde to pipe up again, cheery as fucking ever. "So what exactly have you been up to around here?" She asked. "You said something about Regulators, and then caravaneering? You sure lead a busy life."

"It ain't that interesting," she lied. "Just jobs."

"Really? 'Cause from the way you spoke to Meyers, that vigilante stuff didn't seem like just a job. So what is it with you?"

Brianna didn't respond.

"Oh, come on. I don't know _anything_ about you."

"Fine. What do you wanna know?"

"Well, where did you come from?"

"DC, I think," she replied after a brief moment of indecision. She didn't see any harm in telling the truth, for once. Sunny Smiles seemed just as trustworthy as her damned dog. "Grew up with my parents. They traded mostly in DC, but made a few trips to the Mojave and anywhere in between."

"Really? That far away?" The woman seemed genuinely surprised. "What's it like in DC?"

"No idea. Haven't been there in years. Not since I was... Nineteen. Place was a fuckin' warzone though. Super Mutants crawling all over the damned place for a start. Nothing there but ruined old buildings, mostly. A few settlements here and there..."

Sunny frowned. "Everything okay? You look... Thoughtful."

She quickly shook herself free of any thought about DC. _It's always this fucking subject they're interested in. _"I'm _fine. _Just don't go asking me any more damned questions."

"Sorry. I mean, I was just curious."

"Well don't fucking expect me to open up when you don't tell me a damned thing about where _you_ came from."

_"Jesus, _I just..." She sighed. "I'm sorry. You're right."

There was silence for a moment, until Brianna finally asked the question that had been itching at the back of her mind. "Hey, uh..." She hesitated for a moment before finally asking, "What's a Jeezuz?"

Sunny blinked. "Sorry... What?"

"No, seriously. The _one_ time people don't take me seriously is when I fucking ask them what a Jeezuz is. Can't just be a word you moan in bed. What is it? What's it mean?"

Sunny looked at her with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "You've _never _heard of... Of Jesus? You know what religion is, right?"

She shook her head.

"Wow. Uh, well, it's like... Like having faith in something - a higher being. Like God, for example." On a hasty afterthought, she added, "You know who that is, don't you?"

"Yeah, it's..." She faltered. "Uh..."

"Woah. That explains... A lot, actually. So you don't believe in the afterlife?"

"Afterlife?"

"Y'know, when you die and return to this world as something else. If you're a good person, that is."

"Damn. Guess I'm fucked. But seriously, you believe in that kind of shit?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I used to. Sort of."

"Used to? What happened?"

"Stuff. Stuff happened."

Brianna shrugged. "Sounds ridiculous anyway. What kind of fucked up 'God' or 'Jeezuz' would let this stuff happen? People before the war, they believed in stuff like that, right?"

Sunny nodded.

"And where the fuck are they now?"

"Uh, yeah... Brianna, right now I'm a little more concerned about, uh... Them."

Brianna looked up. A large valley of empty desert stretched out from the left side of the road. The sandstorm brewing in the distance was enough to obscure the scuttling creatures, but Brianna recognised the fire ants immediately by the rapid clicking of their pincers as they came into view. _Fuck. _She drew her pistol, backing away slowly and keeping it trained on the nearest ant, ready to fire.

But she didn't. The encounter ended quickly in a swift anticlimax as the army of ants scuttled past them, much to Sunny's wide-eyed disbelief. Brianna turned slowly, watching as the ant swarm moved towards an object just ahead of them. _A corpse, _she realised, forcing herself not to laugh at how ridiculous the situation was. _A radscorpion corpse._

"Those are some hardcore ants," Sunny remarked.

She opened her mouth, ready to respond before she caught movement in the corner of her eye. Spilling out of the Poseidon gas station just a short stretch behind them was a mob of _huge_ radscorpions, already seeming to match the size of the dead one a few feet away, and so far these things were only shapes in the distance. _Shit. _Even this far away, they had no chance of outrunning the damned things.

"We have more important things to worry about than ants," Brianna grumbled, quickly shoving her pistol in its holster and shrugging the rifle from her shoulder. Sunny barely had time to react before Brianna fired a wave of bullets over the rapidly approaching scorpions, each one easily deflected by their armoured exoskeleton. _Dammit. _ Sunny pointlessly fired a round from her pistol in the direction of the creatures, about ten of them at least forming the rapidly approaching group. Most appeared to be bigger than Cheyenne, and the leader easily matched the height of Sunny. They had no chance. _We're gonna fucking die._

She threw her rifle over her shoulder, fumbling around her waist for a frag grenade. _Two left. _She unlooped one, watching Sunny from the corner of her eye as she continued to desperately fire at the scorpions. Without a second thought, she pulled the pin and waited. _Three... Two... _Dashing forward, she hurled the grenade towards the base of the hill, just as the radscorpion's leader was finishing its descent along the sandy slope. Readying her rifle, she watched with a hammering heart as the grenade exploded with a _bang _beneath the giant scorpion's underbelly, tearing the monster's hard shell apart. The two scorpions nearest suffered the explosion's force, being thrown backwards and onto their backs, legs blown apart and bleeding.

_Three left._

They scattered quickly down from the hill, scuttling over the corpses of their companions with stingers waving and ready. Brianna got to work instantly as they drew near, spraying the radscorpions with bullets and hindering them enough for her to place a good shot on one of the creature's legs, tearing them apart with a quick spray of bullets. Sunny moved to finish off the crippled scorpion with a quick shot to the underbelly, as Brianna rapidly dodged oncoming lunges with stingers. _They're too damn close._

The things easily reached her waist in height, their piercing stingers easily at her throat. After deftly sidestepping an oncoming blow, she managed to spray the other scorpion with a wave of bullets as Sunny finished one off with a bullet cleverly shot through its stinger, forcing its legs to give out beneath it as it screeched in pain. _Just one more. _

The stinger crashed into her arm before she could react, colliding with the metal plating of her shoulder with alarming force. She yelled in pain as the metal was crushed by the force of the blow, crashing into her arm. But she felt no piercing agony, no fatal sting breaking through her skin. It hadn't managed to break through the metal. _Thank fuck. _She sidestepped another lunge from the stinger, her feet slow and heavy beneath her now as Sunny rushed towards her to help, firing a quick three bullets into the radscorpions side. Brianna finished it with a final round to its legs, allowing Sunny to shoot her last bullet into the dying creature's face.

"Well," Brianna managed. "That's that."

* * *

Nipton was just up ahead, and the smoke trail hadn't gotten any shorter. From a distance, Brianna could smell the acrid stench of burning rubber, and every breath felt tainted by the billowing smoke rising from the seemingly deserted town. A flickering neon signed proclaimed that they were entering Nipton, _'the happiest little town in the world,' _however the sight before them quickly proved otherwise. Piles and piles of rubber vehicle tires were piled high between dilapidated houses, some smouldering and others still burning brightly. _"No," _Sunny breathed, directing her attention towards two flags that pierced the sky with flowing crimson, both planted firmly into the dying soil. _No fucking way, _was Brianna's first thought, and all at once she understood Sunny's reaction as her own eyes found the flags, and their sigils. Two golden bulls standing amongst a field of blood.

_Legion._

"What the fuck happened here?"

Brianna's voice was stone as eyed a twisted mailbox standing crooked outside of the nearest building, with human teeth littered over the rusted metal. Cheyenne gave a low, sullen whine as the group continued on through the town. Brianna found that somebody's right hand had been nailed onto the front door of another house, middle finger raised. _Charming._ They turned a left corner towards a tall building which, she supposed, must have once have served as a town hall. Brianna could hear the breath leaving Sunny's lungs as the pair were met with the sight that lay ahead.

Crucifixions.

Forced into the ground along both sides of the road were long wooden posts, besting the size of a grown man. Another shorter post was nailed transversely, so the completed design crudely resembled a cross. Streaks of brown and crimson were streaked along their sides, and the same fresh blood pooled along the road in places, glistening in the sunlight.

At first, it seemed as if the world had fallen silent. Every trace of life that existed outside the town had simply disappeared, leaving only the two women to look on silently at the desolate street.

And then she heard the moaning. So desperate, but so feeble that she could have mistaken it for the lightest breath of wind. But the air was still and dead, and the weak cries of pain could only belong to whoever had been latched upon the crosses ahead.

"Oh my god," Sunny whispered, slowly moving forward and allowing her eyes to meet those of the dying man next to her. _A Powder Ganger. _Brianna could just make out the familiar NCRCF label sewn at his chest, although whatever remained of the shredded blue clothing was stained with blood - some of it still fresh and gleaming wetly in the light. His palms were splayed, revealing the iron nails that had been driven into his hands, the only thing keeping him upright on the twisted mockery that was the wooden cross. Brianna stood at Sunny's back, eyeing the woman nailed to the crossed at her left. A prostitute, she knew at once. What remained of her leather skirt clung firmly to her thighs, which were slick with blood. Her chest was covered only by a pink bra, doing little to conceal the vicious scarring along her torso. The word _'WHORE' _had been cut into the skin along her breasts.

"Legion cunts," Brianna hissed, her blood boiling with rage. "Twisted fu-"

_"Yahoooooo!"_

Brianna's eyes widened incredulously as turned to the sound of a singing voice. Her hand tensed on the butt of her gun watching as a man skipped past them, merely a blur of pink and blue in her vision until he appeared behind her, sending her spinning around in the opposite direction once again as Sunny watched in disbelief. "I won!" The stranger cried._ "_I _won! _I won the fuckin' lottery, man! _Yahoooo!"_

Brianna blinked. "What the f-?"

The stranger suddenly moved to grip her shoulders, laughing with manic glee barely contained by a pair of tinted goggles and a pink baseball cap. "Hi there! Good to see ya! _God, _smell that air! Couldn't ya just drink it like _booooze?!" _He threw his head back in a wild cackle before Brianna shoved him away, quickly drawing her pistol and aiming it between his eyes.

"What did you win?" She questioned, narrowing her eyes. "What the _fuck _happened here?"

"Man, you are _way_ too serious! Just enjoy _life,_ y'know?"

"I asked you a question, fuckface. What lottery?"

_"The _lottery, babe! Are you _stupid?! _Only one that matters! Hell yeah!"

"Just leave him." Sunny's voice barely rose beyond a croak. "He won't help us."

Forcing away the urge to shoot the fucker between the eyes, Brianna lowered her pistol. "Go. And get outta here before I change my mind."

_"Yippppeeeeeee!" _He sang, running off out of sight.

_Creep._

Sunny looked anxious as the group continued down the road, keeping her pistol drawn at her side. The town hall stood ahead, two legion banners flying high the air on either side of the large building. More flaming piles of tires stood on either side of the entrance.

"Looks like the Legion are still celebrating," Sunny remarked, her voice no more than a breath in the wind as Caesar's Legion approached.

They marched in as if from nowhere, three recruits on either side of the town hall moving silently into view, each one flawlessly military in appearance. Their armour consisted of a cuirass and leather skirt (Brianna couldn't think of it as anything else), and each wore their own black helmet, with large sunglasses to conceal the rest of their faces. A perfect imitation of the ancient Roman Empire, the two rows lined up on either side of each other, facing their opposing comrades as the doors of the town hall swung open, revealing an alarming figure who swooped out silently into the light. Brianna noticed that his armour was similar to the other recruits, but heavily protected by steel plates. On his head was the skin of a wild dog, and his face too was concealed by dark sunglasses.

"Ah, finally. This is just what I've been waiting for." His voice was the surface of a frozen pond, smooth and glacial and utterly devoid of even the barest hint of emotion. "A wandering group of degenerates, sent here to act as witness to what has happened in this town." His head turned to Brianna, and then to Sunny. "How... Quaint. I see a cripple before me, with a snarling mongrel at her side. And who appears to be the leader, I wonder? Ah... It must be the busty whore who wears that scar so proudly." Brianna bit her tongue and allowed him to continue in that icy monotone. "Look at you. You both have weapons, indeed, and you stand so fearlessly before us. And yet, what do you do? You remain motionless, allowing me to continue on as I please. Just as I would expect."

"What the fuck happened here?" Brianna snapped, her voice quavering slightly.

"Justice. The town of Nipton you see now before you was never anything more than a disgusting cesspit, a town of whores and profligates. Its dwellers would gladly lead their fellow neighbours into a Legion trap if such a thing promised reasonable pay. And they did, without hesitation. Little did they know that they themselves had been lured into the snare as well."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Brianna demanded. "Some lottery?"

"Ah, of course," the legionary replied stiffly. "It was quite simple, really. Myself and my fellow Legion soldiers merely herded the residents of Nipton into the centre of the town, and most did so without showing restraint, believing that no harm would fall upon them, and that they would be rewarded for their efforts against the other degenerates in this town. After they realised just how mistaken they were, we announced the lottery. Each clutched their ticket, watching as 'loved ones' were dragged away to be slaughtered, and none raised a finger against us, nor said a word in protest. The 'lucky losers', as we called them, were simply decapitated. A nice, clean death, don't you think? Others were crucified and displayed along the streets for all to see. The dear mayor had the honour of being burned alive on a stake - quite a suitable punishment, I believe. Two survived; only one walked out of this town. The other resides somewhere within, his legs beaten beyond repair."

Brianna was shaken, graphic images of each scenario flashing behind her eyes as the man spoke to her, his expression completely unreadable.

"Why?" Sunny asked. "Why the does the Legion care about this place anyway? Why bother?"

"So the cripple asks the right question, at last. This has been one of many lessons to follow. The Legion punishes the wicked, the cruel, the self-obsessed and the greedy. You see, we were seven people, ushering them into the square and dragging away their families, their lovers, their friends. They were forty, fifty in number, everyone but the children armed with some kind of weapon. And yet they did nothing. The ticket was all that mattered now. They obeyed the rules of the lottery like a herd of brahmin, and each one was given more mercy than was deserved of them."

"Sick fucks," Brianna spat.

"For that insult I could have both of you rounded up, tied together and sold as slaves. The amputee is useless, so we could sell her as a cheap prostitute for the lonely and desperate. Perhaps we could hold an auction for those who find themselves with a particular fetish for her kind. That hideous scar of yours might be off-putting, however. Maybe we could use your corpse as a training dummy for our newest recruits. Or keep you alive, in order to allow them a more realistic experience. And the canine will be beaten and starved until it is fierce and willing to rip the throats from whoever stands against us." His exposed mouth flickered with the ghost of a satisfied smirk, and Brianna could have sworn that she heard the icy contempt in his voice, though it did not change.

She remained silent after that.

"Does that not sound... Pleasant? Good. I have a more important use for you degenerates. Take a walk. Memorize every detail of what you see here; have a talk with some of our displays, if you can. Then, I want you to retreat, to scamper back to the hill where the NCR hide behind their glorious monument, and you will tell them what you saw here today. Make haste, if you would. Filthy creatures such as you do tend to die... Very quickly."

And with a raise of his hand, the Legion troops surrounded him silently, and they marched off as one. Their footsteps fell silently until they were gone out of sight. Brianna shuddered.

Sunny watched them go for a moment, before quickly producing her knife and directing her attention towards the people mounted on the crosses along the street. "We can't just leave them like that, Brianna. They were bad people, but... Nobody deserves that. Nobody."

Sunny moved towards the first Powder Ganger, and Brianna joined her wordlessly, her stomach knotting as she saw what was left of the dying man. He was little more than a husk of a person, his ribs visible through cracked, ashen skin. His head lolled to one side and he seemed to lack the strength to keep his eyes open. He released a feeble groan of agony as Sunny moved to cut the ropes around his waist that bounded him to the cross. He did not seem to be nailed in any place that Brianna could see.

"You'll kill him," Brianna warned her suddenly. "He's dying from exposure."

"... I know," Sunny mumbled, continuing to saw through the ropes. "Better than leaving him like this, right? I get that it seems pointless, but it's a stand against the Legion if nothing else."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right."

They spent the following hour cutting the Powder Gangers down from their crosses. There was little conversation. They played the radio for some time, but it only served to make things more disgustingly morbid than they already were. They found a few Powder Gangers with their eyes already pecked out by the circling crows, which finally drove Sunny to break down and vomit between ugly sobs. Brianna gave up when she reached one of the final corpses, torn apart by crows. That was when they decided to move on, and leave the smoking town of Nipton behind to rot.

"You were right," Sunny mumbled, as they returned along the road to the Mojave Outpost. "About God, and Jesus. All of it. Stupid thing to believe in after all. Where... Where the fuck was God when all of this happened?"


	12. The Flames Only Spread

**SOMEWHERE IN THE MOJAVE DESERT**

**JULY 21**

**14:03**

"That's it, then. All of my fucking plans just... Gone. Just like that. All because of the fucking-"

"Legion, I know." Sunny huffed out a sigh as the pair continued along the road. "There's no point in shooting your mouth off and complaining about it."

"Not my fault the trail's dead," Brianna grumbled in response. "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?"

"I'm sure we'll find another trail to follow. Someone else is bound to know something about Benny. Or..." She trailed off, and for a moment Brianna wasn't sure if she would continue. "Or, you could give up."

"Give up?"

"I- I don't mean it in a bad way," she added hastily. "I guess I was just wondering... Y'know, why you want this so bad. Why would you wanna go looking for the guy who tried to kill you? Why bother?"

Why bother? Was that supposed to be some kind of joke? Brianna shot her an incredulous look. "Why do I fucking bother?" She asked. "Because some bastard in a suit tried to kill me, that's why! You think I should just forget about that?" Sunny didn't respond. "I want to know what kind of part I was supposed to play in all of this. I wanna know what that chip was. I wanna know who took it from me. I wanna know why in the ever-loving fuck some guy would see my name on a courier list and immediately back out of one of the biggest courier jobs he was ever likely to get. I want answers, alright? And I need my fucking revenge."

"Brianna," Sunny began carefully. "Look... I know you're angry, but I really don't..." She took a deep breath. "I don't know if you're thinking straight. You never had an important part to play. You were a courier, remember? All you had to do was deliver a package - that was all that was expected of you. So why risk your life to find answers to something you've never really been involved in?"

"Because I _have_ to!"

_"Why?"_

"Because..." She gnawed her lip. "Because if I don't... What else do I have? You wanna know where I came from, Sunny? You wanna know where I was before I found that fucking job?" Her voice raised an octave with every word. "I was a fucking prostitute! I was a whore. I spent months in Vegas just so, so desperate to stay alive, just to cling onto the ridiculous hope that..." She swallowed the words that had slowly been crawling up her throat. "I had nothing, Sunny. Nothing. And now, now I'm getting myself tied up in all of this bullshit just so I have some kind of drive, something to work towards, because... Because I like it. I just fucking love it! The danger, the thrill, all of the life-threatening bullshit that I'm always looking for. Because what else do I have, you know? I'm not depressed; I'm not some miserable old bastard that drinks and smokes and gambles to sort their damned problems out. I just..." She groaned, running her fingers through the tangles in her hair. "I just..."

Sunny gave her a small smile of reassurance. "Hey, it's alright," she said gently. "I understand now. And I bet you-"

"God... Please... Someone help me... Please..."

Brianna frowned, stopping in her tracks as the unseen stranger continued to plead. She reached for her pistol, holding it ready and aiming it out into the desert around them as she searched for the source of the desperate cries.

"Oh my God." Sunny rushed off the road, Cheyenne stopping uncertainly for a moment before running to join her. At last, Brianna found what she had been searching for. A man, lying just a few metres off the road. His dark, sun-beaten was noticeably scratched and red with smears of blood as he attempted to crawl along the sand with his elbows. As Brianna moved to join Sunny, she could see how his legs had been bent and twisted at extreme angles hanging uselessly behind him as the stranger continued to drag himself forward, before landing on his face in a defeated heap. He wore nothing but a pair of black, tattered trousers, and Brianna knew immediately that he was dying.

"Hey there... Beautiful..." He croaked, twisting his body around to look straight into Sunny's eyes, a giddy smile playing on his bloodied lips. Brianna noticed that his arm had been stuck with a syrine, now caked with dirt. "You're... You're broken too, huh...? Still pretty... With just... One hand..."

Sunny smiled sweetly at him before shooting a stern look in Brianna's direction, gesturing towards the bag at her back. Brianna sighed, shoving her pistol in its holster before unshouldering her bag and beginning to dig for the medkit that lay inside. She tossed it to Sunny, who caught it easily with one hand.

"Hey sweetie," she said gently. "What happened to you? Where did you come from?"

She was met with only another giggle in response.

"You think he knows something?" Brianna asked, keeping her distance from Sunny and her 'patient'. She watched as the woman sat herself down cross-legged on the sand. She managed to open up the medkit and rummage for a painkiller.

"Shuuush, it's alright," Sunny whispered, ignoring Brianna's question and carefully slipping a syringe in to the mans' arm before removing the old one and setting it aside. "That's just gonna help with the pain, alright? Now, I need you to tell me who did this to you. What happened?"

"Fuckin' Legion, man. That... Fuckin' lottery thing. Jesus, I just wanted outta there so bad. I got my ticket and they said... They said I was a... A 'lucky loser' or something... Said I got to live, and I asked 'em if I could just... Just go. They said I wouldn't be going fuckin' anywhere, and they beat me up and... Beat my legs and... I just wanna go home, man... I can't fuckin' walk no more... I want my mom... I want my mom but... She's dead and... And... And my girlfriend's dead and... And..."

"Hey, it's okay, sweetie. Is there any way we can help you?"

"Yeah... Yeah... You got a pistol there, right? That'll do the job nicely..."

Sunny flinched, pursing her lips together as she injected the painkiller and removed the needle from his vein. "A... Are you sure? We can help you, we can-"

"No we can't," Brianna interrupted quickly. "He's dying, Sunny. Just get some information out of him and finish the fucking job. There's nothing we can do for him."

Sunny shook her head. "No... We can't. We can't just leave him. Not with everything he's seen, we... We can't just leave him here to die, for fuck's sake!"

"Well we can't save him either!"

"I know that!" Sunny yelled. "I... Just... Just go."

"... What?"

"Just go. I'll handle things, alright? I'll ask whatever questions you want. Just go."

* * *

"Legion? This far out?"

"Yep. Burned the place to the fucking ground. Some bastard with a dog on his head said something about Nipton being a 'lesson'. They held this... This 'lottery'. People were burned, decapitated, crucified... The place was hell. Fucking _hell."_

"Shit. This isn't good. We never expected things to get so bad. And so suddenly... I'll send word to my superiors as soon as I can. Thank you for going out there, and I'm sorry for everything you had to witness. You've done us a good turn, kid." The sniper nodded at Brianna before returning her attention once more to the road. "Looks like your friend's back. One with the dog." Brianna looked out over the sniper's nest and found Sunny passing underneath the statues, her ponytail bobbing behind her as she walked.

"Great..."

Brianna headed down the ramp to meet Sunny, gnawing the inside of her lip as the blonde spotted her and began to make her way over.

"Novac," Sunny began at once. "Boxcars said he'd met them before, Benny and a few Khans, about six of them. He said they were passing through Novac, but he didn't know why."

_Novac. _She'd passed through before, but only once or twice. There was nothing to see there, and all they traded was junk. All she remembered was that the rooms were hideously overpriced and there was a huge lizard thing standing right in the middle of the town. She couldn't imagine why anybody would want to head there, least of all a group of Khans and a New Vegas pretty boy with a valuable platinum chip. But it was a lead to follow.

"Novac, huh?" She pondered that for a moment. As long as it hadn't gone down in smoke as Nipton had, there would be no reason for the journey to inconvenience any one of them. It wasn't hard to get there, and at this point she didn't care. She would continue the journey by herself in a heartbeat if she had to.

"Yeah. Doesn't sound like a bad place, and we can stock up on some supplies. The sniper up there, she's gonna pay us for checking Nipton out, right?"

Brianna shrugged. "Didn't ask."

"Then I will. Could you order us a bite to eat?" She smiled.

The bar was no more welcoming that it had been the last time they'd stopped by. The bartender, Lacey, promised Brianna two meals on the house for checking Nipton out, and soon disappeared into the back room to prepare something for her. Sunny had promised to have a long conversation with the sniper about their payment as Brianna sat herself down on the bar, helping herself to a half empty bottle of water that had been left aside, as if that would calm the intense pain that throbbed in her temples. And the headache only got worse when Rose of Sharon Cassidy made her presence known once again.

"So," the redhead began, "Nipton. How'd that work out for ya?"

"Look at you, still speaking in coherent sentences," Brianna shot back at her, not bothering to turn her head. "Go fuck yourself, Cass. I thought we were done here."

"Aw, don't hurt me like that," she giggled. "Y'know, I _was _considering going to join you. On one of those little adventures you like so much. Buuut, then I thought... Nah. I just wanted another-"

Within a split second Brianna had grabbed the water bottle next to her and thrown the contents in Cass' face. The woman released an involuntary shriek of surprise, and three men in the corner of the bar looked up from their card game with irritated grumbles.

"That clear your head a little?" Brianna asked with a snarl. "Sober you up enough so you can tell me exactly what the fuck you wanna say? Because I'm gettin' real tired of your shit already."

She attempted to rub the water away from her eyes with the back of her hands. "Agh... Jesus, was it fuckin' neccessary?" She grumbled.

"I asked you a question, fuckface. Thinkin' straight yet? 'Cause I think I got more water in here if you-"

_"Alright." _She rubbed at her wet shirt with a scowl. "Yeah, I was thinkin' about joining you, alright? Not for good or anything. I just want _out _of this cesspit and away from all of these assholes who keep _fucking staring at me!" _

At that comment, the men quickly returned to their game.

"So where you headed?" Cass asked, twirling around in her seat and propping her elbows back against the bar. "Just get me outta here."

Brianna narrowed her eyes. "Why would I wanna help you?"

"Because we're _friends," _she spat.

"I was eighteen last time I saw you. Shit changes."

"Look." She straightened herself up. "Just dump me at the next town or whatever. I dunno, maybe I'll get back on my feet again."

Brianna raised an eyebrow.

"I mean it, okay? Hell, what more do you want?"

"... We're going to Novac."

"Wonderful. I'll pack my things."

* * *

"Man, you were right," Cass grumbled, kicking the busted remains of a skull off the road. "This place _is _hell."

The walk through Nipton had been far from comfortable. The stench of burning rubber had long passed, leaving only the sweet smell of death in its' wake. They were quick to put the desecrated town behind them, and ahead the canyon wall opened into a wide passage, beckoning for them to enter. The sun was low against the sky's pink backdrop, offering just enough light for them to see clearly, although it wouldn't last long.

The continued through the canyon in silence, Sunny shooting uncertain looks at Cass, who continued to hum absently off-tune. The passage looked deserted, only a few twisted automobiles remaining to complicate the journey further. Sometimes they blocked off the entire passage, and it was hard to move over them without breaking skin against the sharper points of the metal. By the time they managed to clamber over a large vehicle which had turned on its side, Brianna saw that her hands were stained brown with rust, burning crimson in the dying sunlight.

"Legion's slowly creeping up on the NCR," Cass remarked. "Like a toxic cloud. Killing off people slowly, slowly... And by the time it reaches the masses there's nothing anybody can do to stop it. It's just natural. Every force of good needs an adversary, and the people seem to fight each other without question. War never changes..."

"Now that was quite a speech."

Brianna's pistol was drawn and loaded in an instant as the sound of an unfamiliar voice crept up on them. After quickly spinning around, her gun locked on a woman sitting atop one of the toppled vehicles - a 'lorry', if Cass was right. Brianna watched as she let herself slide down, landing lightly on the ground again with the faintest sound of her feet hitting the sand.

"Now, now, there's no need for that," she said, the flicker of a smile appearing on her lips as she drew closer. Brianna studied her for a moment, not recognising her face. However she was certain that she would forget it even a moment after looking at it. She had pale green eyes, and despite only being in her mid-twenties, her shoulder-length hair was a dull colour of gray. Her face was pretty, in the way that it wasn't ugly. There was no attractive feature that drew Brianna to her, and likewise she possessed no scar or marking that she could see. Her entire being defined the word 'plain'.

_Most dangerous kinda person._

"Who the fuck are you?" Brianna questioned behind gritted teeth.

"Somebody," the stranger replied carefully, "who is looking for someone."

Sunny drew her pistol, hearing Cheyenne give a low, guttural growl.

"Cute dog," the woman remarked with a childish giggle. But the playfulness didn't last for long. It took a second for her neutral expression to morph into one of manic intensity. "Did you see him?" She demanded. "Vulpes. Vulpes Inculta. You've been to Nipton; you've seen his work. Haven't you. _Haven't you?" _She demanded. "Did he come this way?"

"You're gonna need to start explainin' things real fast," Cass advised. "'Cause I'm already sick and tired of listening to bullshit."

"No. No, you know who he is. He's..." She smiled. "He wears a beast upon his head and feathers on his armour. If you know who he is..." She had her own pistol drawn in a quick half-second. "... You'll tell me."

Realisation seemed to suddenly dawn on Sunny. "You're looking for... For _him? _For the one who...?"

"Who taught Nipton a valuable lesson? Yes. Did he come this way?"

"So what if he did?" Brianna questioned with an icy glare.

"That is my business. If you assure me that he came this way, I may have some valuable information to offer you."

"What kinda information?" Cass asked.

"The valuable kind." She smiled. "Oh, and my name is Tenley. Hi!"

Brianna groaned. _This is bullshit. _"Alright, he came this way. Now what?"

"Now I'll join you across this passage," she explained matter-of-factly. "Oh, and as for the valuable information... There's someone watching us."

"Hey..." Sunny nudged Brianna's arm, directing her attention towards a blurred figure skulking over the mountains. She could just make out the form of a sniper rifle as the stranger shrugged it off his shoulder and began to scan the canyon ruins below. Brianna's hand tensed on her pistol, and she watched as the sniper aimed his rifle slowly along the canyon passage, until the amber eye of the scope locked on her own, lingering there for a few moments. Her breath hitched in her throat. Until it moved away again.

"Blind bastard didn't see us or something," Cass suggested.

The woman, Tenley, moved towards the group, shaking her head. "No. He certaintly did."

The gunshot cracked loudly against the air, followed by an colossal _bang_, as Brianna felt herself being thrown backwards into the air. Her head cracked against something solid, leaving her disoriented long enough for the sniper to send another shot her way. She could hear it ricocheting against the vehicle behind her, and scrambled to her feet, her ears ringing. She could barely hear Cass' angered yell of _"What the fuck?!"_ until the woman was pulling at her wrist, sending a hand flying across Brianna's face. She snapped back into reality at the stinging blow.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?!" Cass yelled. "Snap out of it! We're going!" She nodded, feeling her feet slamming against the beaten road before she even realised she was running. Another shot cracked from far away, and this time she threw herself behind the remains of a vehicle to find protection from the following explosion. Catching her breath for just a moment, she rested her head against the flat metal of the car, her eye catching something round and white just off in the distance, half-buried amidst a pile of dirt and sand. A land mine.

"Fuck! Run!" She called, not seeing her companions but hearing their footsteps slapping against the road with hers. She continued to sprint along the canyon, pistol raised, until she caught sight of a group of three people moving towards them from the other side of the canyon. "Shit," she muttered, drawing her pistol and firing three loud shots into the distance. The raiders ran at her so quickly that she could already make out their crazed expressions and cracked yellow skin.

Sunny approached from behind her with Cheyenne, and Tenley joined them soon after, leaving Cass to catch up from behind. Before Sunny could react, Cheyenne had already bounded off, running at full speed towards the gang of raiders. Brianna and Tenley aimed their guns in unison, ready to fire a burst of bullets into the raiders' direction.

"Don't!" Sunny squeaked. "What if you hit Cheyenne?!"

"Dammit!" She quickly holstered the pistol, watching as Cheyenne took down one more raider before another ran at her with a lead pipe. Brianna quickly drew her own knife from its place at her thigh and ran for them, seeing that one had just been hit upside the head with a large rock, cracking his skull and propelling him towards the ground in a broken sprawl. She ran to finish off the last raider, knife ready. "Time to fucking die, _princeeeess!"_ The raider sang, lunging at Brianna with a manic cackle. She quickly moved away from killer blow of the tire iron, and the next followed just as quickly, the pointed tip catching her in the side and causing her to hiss with pain. She swiped at the man's arm desperately, catching the unprotected skin but not dealing any more damage. She quickly looked around for Cheyenne before her face was met with another blow, knocking her off her feet.

"Nighty night prin- Gaoooowwww!" When she looked up again, Brianna could just make out a female figure slamming the butt of her gun into the raiders' head. She placed a hand on her right cheek, wincing as her fingers met the warm liquid running along her skin. The wound stang, and paired with the fierce pulsating agony in her temples, it was almost debilitating painful. But she managed to stumble onto her feet just into time to see the gray-haired woman kick the raider aside.

"Well that could have gone worse," the woman remarked. "Wouldn't you a-?"

_BANG._

She felt the force and heat of the blast going off behind her and staggering backwards in alarm as the explosion sent another car flying into the air. It wasn't over yet. _Not by a long shot. _"Move!" Brianna yelled, running until she found Sunny's wrist and yanked it hard until she felt the woman following behind her. Cheyenne bounded alongside them and they ran as the canyon exploded behind them. She ran until her lungs screamed in protest, setting her insides on fire, and she didn't stop until the canyon was behind her and her head was spinning.

"Shit!" Cass yelled, doubling over and gasping for air. Sunny joined them soon after, sitting herself on the ground and panting for breath.

"Well that was close." Tenley smiled at them cheerfully.

"Thought the they woulda ran the fucking raiders outta here a long time ago," Cass complained. "NCR can't walk the length of their own dicks."

Cass got to her feet. Her hat had fallen over her face, blinding her as she felt around her waist in search of the whiskey bottle loosely tied around her belt. Brianna watched the redhead in silent bemusement as she took a swig from her bottle, while at the same time trying to swing her head back in order to correctly reposition her hat. With a light chuckle, Brianna made her way over to Cass, lifting the straw hat from her face.

"You look better... Without the damned thing," she panted.

Cass scowled, discarding the empty bottle and snatching back the hat. "There are two people out here in the wasteland. You've got the assholes that are nicely tanned and glowing with health - or radiation - and then you've got the unfortunate sons of bitches that crisp up like a dead molerat skewered over a spit. I'll let you guess which category I belong to."

"Well this has been nice," Tenley announced with a wide stretch. "Maybe I'll see you again some time. I have somebody important to find."

"Hey, look!" Sunny chimed, stretching high up on her tiptoes to point out something in the distance. At first it looked to be little more than a green blur staining the blue horizon, but it soon made itself out to be something much different. A hulking green lizard of some sort, towering above a small collection of buildings just a few miles ahead. It was sure was Novac alright, and it was pretty damned hard to miss.

"And the chase continues," Brianna mumbled.


	13. They Went That-A-Way

**NOVAC **

**JULY 21**

**17:04**

Sunny let out a small noise of amusement as they approached the town, a flickering neon sign just ahead spelling out 'NOVAC' where it had once declared 'NO VACANCY'. Like most of the other settlements around the Mojave, Novac did little to live up to its name as a town, merely consisting of a few tiny white buildings which only just passed off as houses, and a block of motel rooms smacked in the centre of the place. The town's main attraction was the huge lizard that towered above the dilapidated structures below, and for once, Brianna didn't feel obliged to question the point in such a hideous monstrosity that called itself a 'tourist location'. In fact, he found herself somewhat distracted by the mobilised television that was wheeling its way along the gravel towards them as they made their way along the road.

"The _fuck-?" _

"Well howdy, buckaroo!" The robot exclaimed, the same cheery, smiling cowboy face flickering merrily on its screen, just as she remembered. "My, you're lookin' a tad on the rough edge if you don't mind me sayin' so. Fancy meetin' you and all your other little pals out here on the road!"

"What are you doing here, Victor?" Sunny questioned.

"Can't say I rightly know, partners. See, I started feeling this sudden urge to roll on over to New Vegas. You only live once, of course, so I thought _'oh, what the heck?'_ and set off!"

_Yeah, right, _Brianna thought, _and I've set out to pursue my dream of becoming Gommorah's first fucking deathclaw hooker._ "I don't like being followed, robot," she warned, narrowing her eyes at the machine, which predictably did not detect the hostility.

"Hey now, there's only one road leading up to New Vegas, so we're bound to run into each other from time to time, right?"

"Maybe I'm not _going _to New Vegas."

"Well if you ain't, partner, yer still on the right trail. Maybe you'd fancy a drink with ol' Victor if you ever make your way on up there!"

Brianna groaned inwardly, eyeing the robot with a scowl. She could see the little red light flashing on the top right corner of the robot's body, probably wired in there to indicate a camera of some sort. She wasn't sure what the flashing meant, and wondered if maybe...

"Hey, uh... Who owns you, Victor?"

"Not a soul, partner! Victor's a free robot!"

"Victor also has to be working for someone," Sunny reminded it. "You weren't designed for no reason. And, well, uh... You're a giant tin can, so you don't really get the 'broken rubber' excuse like most people out here."

"Right you are, buckaroo!" The robot sounded almost bashful as he admitted, "Okay, okay, you were right. You see, I'm a securitron. PDQ-88B RobCo security model 2060-B, to be exact."

"One of Mister House's bots," Cass supplied, seeing the blank look on both Sunny and Brianna's faces.

"Right you are, buckaroo! Patrollin' the Strip just wasn't really my calling, though, so I decided to rest up in Goodsprings for a while. Still have no idea why I'm headin' back now, but it's gotta be for good reason, right? Ain't no place like home, partner!"

"I don't like the sound of this." Brianna gnawed on her lip. "Funny that you'd just stop here, though, right in front of Novac. That's convenient."

"Even robots need to stop and rest their haunches for a while, partner."

"Yeah..." Sunny shot a glance at Brianna. "What do you think?"

She shook her head, not moving her eyes off the machine. "You ever seen a robot dig somebody outta their own grave before?" She paused for a moment in thought. _Securitrons... Securitrons... _"Securitrons are controlled entirely by Mister House, right? They don't act on their own free will, they follow sets of instructions from their owner."

"And all Strip security bots act the exact same," Cass added.

"Except for Victor."

She turned to Victor again, attempting to come up with some question that it would have to answer, or a command it would have to follow. Robots had to respond to certain commands, right? Maybe there was some kind of question that could make the robot offer up some real information about why the hell he seemed to be following them. After a moment the only idea to cross her mind was, "Victor, what the hell is up with you?"

The robot imitated a long sigh. "I know, I know, people might start to talk if they keep seein' us getting caught up like this." He chuckled. "But what's little Dorothy without her Tin Man? Now, I know this might seem sudden, but... How about we travel together? Victor, Bree-Anna, and your little friends here!"

"Absolutely n-" She paused. "Wait... How the _fuck _do you know my name?"

"Well, buckaroo, if we're gonna be travelin' down the same dusty road I thought it would be best that I know your name! Saves us from those awkward little moments, y'know?"

"Hey, I never said-"

_"Maybe," _Sunny interjected. "Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to have him follow us around. He's a Securitron, right? I've heard those things are pretty hard to destroy."

"Exactly, little blonde buckaroo! And what harm could old Victor do?"

"Well, I don't buy it," Cass said. "Someone sends the most irritating robot from Vegas to follow you around for the kicks? Doesn't seem likely to me. I say we yank its batteries out or something and be done with damn thing."

"Now, now, cowgirl." Victor 'chuckled' nervously. "I won't do you any harm. I don't even mind just helpin' you little trailhands along the road. I'll just wait here 'til you've finished up your business, and protect you from all those nasty wasteland critters when we hit the road!"

Brianna groaned inwardly. Something didn't add up with this robot, but she didn't know what. For a fleeting moment she thought of her friend back in DC, and wished to hell that she was here now. If nothing else, she probably could have taken the robot apart and turned it into a toaster or something that might actually be useful. Still, if the robot started acting suspicious, maybe they could try to figure out who was behind it. If not, then they didn't really have any problem on their hands.

And that was as far as reasoning went for her.

_"Fine. _But you sit your sorry ass down here until we're finished up, okay?"

"Okey-dokey, partner! I'll just sit here and admire the scenery!"

"Yeah, you do that."

* * *

The Dino Dee-Lite motel lobby was, unsurprisingly, no improvement to the overall shabbiness of the rest of the town. Brianna felt a migraine setting in as soon as she walked through the door, being greeted by a lot of dusty, empty space, peeling brown wallpaper and, most prominently, a welcoming voice that challenged the frequency of a dying bloatfly. An elderly woman sat hunched over on a swivel chair behind her desk, greeting them with a chirpy _"Hello, dearies!"._

Brianna lingered slightly behind with Cass, only just in the view of the elderly woman, letting Sunny go ahead and ask all the questions for now. "Hello there," she smiled sweetly at the old lady. "I was wondering if you have any rooms left? Three would be great, thank you."

The woman clucked, standing up from her chair and moving from being the desk, revealing the entirety of her weathered, frail form. She really was a tiny woman, with a thin, worn face. Her eyes were enlarged underneath a pair of bent, round glasses, and a frayed brown dress hung off her small frame. "Now, now, now, of course, of course. It's not very often we have such unusual visitors poking around here. You aren't passing by for trade, are you?"

"We're looking for information," Brianna stated bluntly.

The woman _'aahed' _in understanding, nodding her head in confirmation. "Well I'm afraid I can't help you."

"We didn't tell you what we wanted-"

"It isn't my business, nor my place to get involved," she snapped.

"You run a motel," Cass observed, "you gotta know a lot about what's going on around here, right?"

"I don't snoop around, if that's what you're asking."

"We just want-"

"Buy a room, or get _out."_

Cass raised an eyebrow. "You hidin' something, missy?"

She gritted her teeth and replied carefully, "Would you like a room or not?"

"Uh, yes please," Sunny smiled sheepishly. "Three."

"One," she grumbled, moving behind the desk and taking one of a number of room keys hanging from the wall. "I'm sure you can share." She slapped the key down on the desk. "One hundred and fifty caps."

_Shit. _No way in hell was she wasting all of Ringo's money on a room. Brianna turned to Cass hopefully, who replied with a shake of her head. "Savin' it."

"Uh..." Sunny managed, "we could pay it off. I have, uh..." She fumbled in the pockets of her armour. "I have around a hundred on me. Maybe we could-"

"Hundred and fifty," the old lady repeated, "or get out."

* * *

"What's with the giant gecko?" Cass inquired, stretching her neck up so she could take in the giant statue that towered overhead. For a giant lizard - and that, Brianna assumed, was what it was supposed to be - the statue was more shoddy and misshapen than ferocious. The thing was a huge, hulking, pre-war mess, in fact, with a huge, pointed grin and peeling green paint. From the look of it the dinosaur appeared to be biting the head off a huge thermometer, which also served as a flickering neon sign to welcoming tourists into the motel. Like the Mojave needed another goofy relic and malfunctioning neon letter.

"It's a dinosaur," Sunny explained. "Or at least, that's what they call him. Dinky the Dino, or something like that."

"I ain't really seeing the appeal," Cass remarked.

"Can't say I am either..."

Sunny was the first to ascend the metal stairs into the dinosaur. It had taken them a while to realise that they could actually go up inside it, until another sign declared that they were in the _Dino Dee-Lite Motel and Gift Shop._ Brianna figured that maybe the store owner or whoever was inside could offer them some information. That tiny shred of hope almost disappeared entirely when she stepped inside to join her companions, quickly taking in the store around them and the owner inside. As she passed through the door her senses were instantly assaulted, attacked by the colour green. Piles upon piles of miniature figurines, all neon green, were stacked high everywhere she looked. On the wall-mounted shelves, the bookcases, the counter, even scattered across the floor were tiny little replicas of the massive dinosaur they were standing in, each one with a goofy grin and a tiny thermometer clutched within the creature's tiny hands. Amidst the green chaos was a man. Bald, dark-skinned, and wearing denim overalls stained with green paint. He stood behind the counter, dabbing at yet another dinosaur figurine with a ragged old cloth and humming along to the radio.

"Uh... Hi..." Sunny managed with a small wave, shooing Cheyenne out of the door before closing it behind her, making the tiny store seem even more claustrophobic and assaulting. Brianna gnawed the inside of her lip.

"Hello there, weary travellers!" At once, the store clerk dropped the mini dinosaur and hopped off his stool and onto his feet. "I'm Cliff Briscoe, what brings you to Novac's _fabulous_ Dino Dee-Lite motel and gift shop?"

"Not your shitty toys, that's for damned sure," Cass grumbled.

"Hey now, we got a _huge_ shipment of these in from REPCONN, and they're sellin' like stimpaks! C'mon, only twenty caps for three of 'em and I'll even throw in a cool mini rocket figurine for half the price!" He grinned. Every word was dizzying and infused with manic energy.

"If I was gonna blow all my caps in this shit hole of a town it would be on a room and a bottle of whiskey, not some sad old bastard who plays with dolls," she snapped. "We're lookin' for information."

"Ah..." Briscoe fidgeted uncomfortably. "Well, I, uh, I guess you could talk to Manny. He's our daytime sniper, just up the stairs there." He nodded at a wooden ramp just to the left of the room, leading up to a closed red door. "He'll be your best bet. And something seems to be troubling Boone too - he's our nighttime sniper."

"Wonderful." Brianna flashed the store owner a wicked smile.

"I'll wait outside with Cheyenne," Sunny said. "Go on ahead."

Brianna turned to the redhead next to her. "Cass?"

"I know, I know. I'm going. Maybe see if I can find some work or somethin' around here. Might as well waste my time wisely 'til I'm back on my feet." On an afterthought she added, "And, uh... Just watch yourself out there, alright? I'll see ya later."

And with that, Sunny and Cass were gone, leaving only Brianna to stand uncomfortably in front of the cheery store owner, who promptly returned to polishing his dinosaur figurines. She made haste in moving up the ramp to the sniper's nest, pushing the door open and stepping out into the mouth of Dinky the Dinosaur.

The man ahead was motionless but for the rise and fall of his chest as he scanned the road below them, his rifle aimed between two of Dinky's chipped, white teeth. From up here she could see the road spanning outwards from the centre of the town, currently deserted.

"You breathe too loudly," the sniper announced suddenly. "Otherwise I might not even have heard you."

Shouldering his rifle, the man got to his feet and turned to get a good look at whoever had managed to creep up on him. She could see now that he was tan, with a round face complete with a dark moustache and beard. The armour he wore was far from cheap, made from hard leather painted red and black. A matching red beret was worn atop his head.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to sneak up behind a sniper?" He asked.

"Don't know anyone that's tried."

The sniper sniffed. Brianna supposed that the action was intended to be some form of laughter, and brushed it aside. "Good point," he acknowledged. "But unless you're out here ghoul-spotting, I don't think there's any way I can help you out."

"I'm looking for information," she stated bluntly, realising suddenly how the phrase was beginning to come naturally from her. "You haven't seen a stranger pass through here - New Vegas type? Maybe runnin' with some Khans? Goes by the name of Benny."

The name seemed to spark his interest for a moment. Brianna could see the faintest flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Maybe I have. But I have a job that needs doing. See, lately-"

"Sweetie, I'm afraid that just ain't gonna work," Brianna simpered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she released a soft sigh. "This information is extremely important. See, that evil, evil man tried to kill me, and I really, _really _need-"

She was interrupted by a snort from the sniper, followed by roar of laughter. "Jesus, you- you aren't seriously trying to _hit_ on me?!" He managed between his snorts of amusement. "No offence now, but h- have you _seen _yourself?!" He laughed again, landing a fist on the side of the dinosaur's mouth. "Look, I- Ha! I don't have the information for you, darlin'. Just- just try not to humiliate yourself again. It's the pretty girls that don't have to work- _OW!" _

Her fist connected with the side of the sniper's jaw before Brianna stormed out, slamming the door behind her and thundering down the ramp. _How dare that bastard laugh at me. At my fucking face. _She clenched her jaw, her expression dark and stony. She wasn't ugly. Of course she wasn't! She'd been the hottest bitch in New Vegas before-

_No. _The guy had to be gay or blind or _something. _She fingered the bandage around her neck gingerly as she made her way out of the gift shop. Okay, maybe she hadn't showered in a while and her hair was a mess. Maybe it was the stupid bloodstained bandage around her throat or... Or the disgusting mass of scar tissue on her face.

"It doesn't matter," she assured herself, descending the short flight of steps until she reached the ground. "It doesn't matter..."

"What doesn't?"

Looking up, she found Sunny and Cheyenne waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Cheyenne wagged her tail vigorously, and Sunny looked close to doing the same thing.

"Uh, nothing. Sniper was an asshole so I figured we could break into his house tonight and piss on his face. _Or _we could break into his house and look for information... Or both."

"Uh..." Sunny nodded slowly. "Yeah. Sure."

* * *

The day dragged onwards until at last they reached the lingering hour of sunset. The town of Novac had proven itself to be little more than an ugly pre-war remnant, offering nothing more than a few passing caravans to keep Sunny and Brianna busy. They'd managed to swap some Med-X syringes for a couple of Stimpaks from a woman who called herself Doctor Strauss, although going by the splatters of blood on her tank top and the fact that most of her medical equipment was covered in dirt and sand, Brianna hadn't been entirely sure that the woman was even a real doctor. They'd then attempted to bargain with the bitter old lady from the motel without any luck, and soon the sun had disappeared behind the mountains, and the Mojave was illuminated once again by silver starlight.

All they had to do now was...

"Good evening, Miss Crawford."

Brianna equipped her sweetest smile as the old lady hobbled out from the motel lobby, jumping in alarm when she saw the younger woman heading in her direction. "Goodness gracious," she cursed. "Do you want to give me a damned heart attack, girl? If this is about that room-"

"It's about _a _room. The room of that sniper, Manny Vargas." She raised an eyebrow at the old lady's alarmed expression. "You're a landlady, right?" She opened her mouth to protest. "Cut the crap. Give me the key, and it saves me the trouble of beating it out of you."

The woman barked out a laugh. "You would lower yourself to hitting a poor old woman? _Disgusting. _Now, run along, before-"

"I know that you've been hiding something, lady, so I would advise you to remember that I spent a _long_ fucking time do a lot of bad shit, and my friends here won't argue if I ask them to raid your fucking home. Give me the key, and we'll be on our way."

"You wouldn't d-"

"Jeannie May," Brianna smiled, "I know where you live."

* * *

Sunny was waiting for her at the front of Manny Vargas' room on the second floor, wearing an anxious expression. Brianna quickly made her way up the steps, slipping in past Cheyenne, who seemed to be standing guard below them. The room key flashed in her hand.

"You're not gonna go crazy right?" Sunny asked, her voice lowered to a whisper. "We're just gonna sneak in and out again? What are you even looking for?"

"A journal," she suggested, "or a terminal. Bound to have one of 'em."

Sunny's lips disappeared into a thin line as she backed away from the front door, leaving Brianna room to slowly slip the key inside the lock and slowly... Quietly...

_Click._

"Wait here," she hissed, slipping inside the room and gently pushing the door shut.

The room was no more than she had expected. Faded grey wallpaper, a red carpet marked with more stains than Brianna could count. A busted old mattress had been tossed onto the floor, and a small desk was littered with various pre-war trinkets, including a dead television and a plate of chopped up carrots. Manny Vargas slept in the bed positioned that was tucked into the wall, sniper rifle still at his back. A long, ruined couch sat at an angle just in front of her and... And a terminal glowed green just beyond it, the only source of light that wasn't pouring in through the windows.

_Piece of pie._

She moved past the sofa quickly, without taking a breath. Her footsteps landed silently on the carpet until finally, she was within reach of the glowing terminal.

And a sniper rifle.

"Here to take me up on that work offer?" Asked Manny Vargas. From the corner of her eye Brianna could see the amber glint of his scope, likely centred on the target that was painted on her back as always. "Or maybe you wanted to apologise for almost breaking my jaw?"

"Actually..." Brianna began, slowly turning to face him and placing her palms down on the terminal's desk. "I kinda wanted to piss on your face."

"And my computer too?"

"Oh, that? No, I wanna hack into that and download all your porn."

The sniper chuckled. "Look, sweetheart, you know how this goes. We can do this the easy way-"

"No we can't."

There was a glass pitcher behind her. She grabbed it, using one hand to wrench the rifle away from him. She planted a hard kick on his shin before sending the pitcher down on his head in a shower of glass, knocking him against the couch with a shard embedded just below his eye socket. He gripped the edge of the couch, forcing himself up with all his strength and lunging for her with an angered cry. She jumped back, using her left hand to grab his wrist and twist it around before slamming the pitcher's handle into the side of his head and knocking him unconscious. He fell to the floor in a dead heap, just as the front door was thrown open.

"I heard a noise. Is everything o-? Oh." Sunny found the unconscious Manny Vargas and slowly nodded her head in understanding. "I guess the whole 'stealth' thing didn't really work out for you, huh?"

Brianna shrugged. "Bastard had it comin'."

But there was no time to discuss the bleeding sniper at her feet. She made for the terminal without another moment of hesitation, sliding the plastic chair out from underneath the desk with her ankle and sitting herself down. The terminal was basic Vault-Tec junk, not too difficult to figure out from a quick glance. She hit the 'enter' key, and the flickering screen presented the one word that she'd been hoping to hell wouldn't appear...

**PASSWORD.**

She cursed loudly, running a hand through her matted hair. "Shit, shit, shit."

"No need for that." Sunny bloomed out from somewhere behind her, wearing a triumphant smile. "C'mon, you knew it was gonna be locked, right? I, uh, may have just, kinda, reached into his pockets a little bit and found..." She produced the object from her pocket. "This!" _Manny's room key... _A red tag was looped around it, one side bearing his room number. Sunny quickly flipped it around to reveal a smudged word written on the underside.

"Boone..." Brianna frowned. "Worth a shot."

**PASSWORD: B_O_O_N_E**

The computer _'clicked', _and Brianna exhaled a long pent-up sigh of relief. They were in. Only one file presented itself, simply labelled _'important?'. _She hit 'enter', leaning over the table intently as the letter became clear.

**Manny,**

**You made the right choice, putting us up and keeping it quiet. This weasel Benny's been twitchy since we stole that package from his boss. Making me nervous as hell. But when I found out we'd be passing through on our way to Boulder City, I was sure we could count on you. Let the other Khans say what they want. I know where your loyalty is. **

**One day you'll remember where you belong, and your brothers and sisters will welcome you back like you never left. You know where to find us.**


	14. Boulder City Showdown

**NOVAC**

**22 JULY**

**10:30**

_"Have you ever considered that maybe..."_

She ran without a destination, chased by shadows. Fire. The smell of ash and gunpowder. Bullets ricocheting against crumbling walls, the rapid chattering of gunfire swallowed by the voices that called her back again, each one achingly familiar and each one manic in their taunting laughter.

_"Maybe you just need to stop and think about the direction you've been running in for so long."_

The world was darkness and she was lost and dying and bleeding and-

_"Brianna, you've spent your whole life running towards the very things that want to hurt you."_

Chaos exploded around her once more, machine guns and frag mines and lasers and the constant flickering of memories. Of chasing and shooting and crouching and stabbing and lying and stealing and running. Always running. How could she stop?

_"There's nothing wrong with running away, you know."_

And the night was alive with neon lights, flashing all too brightly as music blared in her ears, splitting her skull in two. She was cold and naked and the world span as strangers spilled out from nowhere she could see, their hands pressing against her body and their money waving in the air. They cheered for her.

_"If you want to see the path ahead, you have to clear your road of obstacles."_

She couldn't. She was deaf and blind and paralysed and numb.

_"You can tear them apart, run through them, rip them to pieces..."_

She wanted to.

_"Or you can turn in a different direction."_

She had. The sun was behind her like the lights of New Vegas and the world sparkled like platinum.

_"You can see the horizon a lot more clearly if you do."_

She could. No. She...

_"And get this... The game was rigged from the start."_

* * *

"You could've at least given me some _warning,"_ Sunny complained, tossing a bundle of clothing in Brianna's direction before disappearing into the bathroom and locking the door behind her. Cheyenne promptly moved to stand guard just outside, watching Brianna with her head tilted drastically to one side and her tail beating happily against the floor.

_Dumb dog._

"Yeah, I'm _really_ sorry for not waking up and politely asking you to move over before I fell on you," Brianna called back, looking at herself in the mirror with a frown. God, her hair was a _mess. _And the shadows under her eyes weren't doing much in her favour either. Not to mention the sweat that glistened on her bare arms, and the cuts and bruises that constantly marked her face. But hell, she could at least be thankful for the extra two hundred caps in her pocket that had bought them a room to sleep in. Raiding Manny Vargas' underwear drawer had proven to be a lot more helpful than she'd imagined. Who would even keep their savings in an underwear drawer anyway? Who even _owned _an underwear drawer nowadays? _Whatever. _She had more important matters to concern herself with.

Other than the initial curses that had been angrily vociferated when she'd fallen from her bed and right on top of the sleeping Sunny Smiles on the mattress below her, the first thought to strike her upon waking had been _Boulder City. _Their next destination, as chance would have it. She didn't know a lot about its history, but she'd heard that most of the city had been blown up by the NCR during the Battle of Hoover Dam. Not like that made any difference. It wasn't as if the rest of the Mojave's settlements were any less devastated by war. The place was, to the best of her knowledge, still crawling with NCR troops. Probably a base for the squads that patrolled the area. So why would the Khans head there? And how the hell was she supposed to know when that message had even been sent to the sniper? She'd been out for almost a full week after the 'incident' with Benny, and a lot could happen during that time. Still, they had no other lead to follow.

After a final dissatisfied glance in the dusty mirror, she got to work. Putting her armour proved to be a test of perseverance, considering that the thing was way too tight in all the wrong places. It offered pretty decent protection, however, with the metal plating around the legs, hips and arms. Complete with spiked shoulder pads and tight leather ankle boots, it defeated the usual Mojave stock by far in the way of protection. So the least she could do was endure the boob-crushing material around her chest.

"Hey," Sunny chimed, appearing again from the bathroom with her leather armour more or less in place, just as Brianna finished adjusting her own, loosening it just enough so that her breasts weren't threatening to concave into her chest. "I was wondering, uh... We really _are _going to Boulder City, right? That message... You think it's real?"

Brianna frowned, grabbing Sunny's discarded hairbrush from the floor and beginning to rake it through the matted tangles in her hair. Through gritted teeth she replied, "Obviously. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, because the Khans and the NCR... They aren't exactly buddies, you know. If the city's still got NCR hanging around, the Khans wouldn't even think about heading through unless they wanted to get shot. Or... Or unless they wanted to shoot NCR, right?"

"Right. But it's not like we have anything to lose by checking it out. Either the NCR there are dead, or the Khans are. Either way, we have a pretty good chance of finding out some information there."

"And if the Khans never went to Boulder City in the first place?"

"Then we flay the skin from Manny Vargas and drink to forget."

"Okey-doke."

With a final yank of the hairbrush throughout the last black wave, she deemed herself ready to be allowed in public. She tossed the brush to Sunny, who reached for it quickly with the bandaged stump of her left hand. It landed against the wall with a soft 'thump' before falling silently onto the purple carpet below. Sunny went scarlet.

"Agh! Sorry!" She moved to retrieve it, Cheyenne padding towards her with an almost humane look of concern.

"I can see you're adjusting well," Brianna commented, folding her arms.

"You try losing one of the most useful parts of your body," Sunny grumbled, beginning to drag the brush through her blonde tresses. "It isn't as easy as you might think."

"Really?" Brianna frowned. That was interesting. It looked as if Sunny Smiles wasn't coping as well as she tried to make it seem. Since they'd began their journey from Goodsprings, she'd been pretending not to notice the woman's sobs in the middle of the night. It wasn't hard to feign ignorance towards the constant puffiness of her eyes and the thickness in her voice and how she would always make going to the bathroom her first priority.

"Yeah," Sunny replied, her voice stony and cold. "Really."

Okay. Maybe she could do a little more than just... Well, nothing. It was time for some consolation. _I can do that. _"Um..." She began hesitantly. "So, uh, how are you?"

Sunny blinked at her, nonplussed.

"I mean, with your hand. How's that, uh... How's that been?"

"Good," she replied stiffly.

"... Good."

Sensing her discomfort, Sunny chuckled lightly and quickly tied her hair up with the elastic around her wrist. "Okay, don't strain yourself or anything. C'mon, we should get going."

* * *

The sun was burning high in the sky as the town of Novac disappeared behind them. They'd already divided up the remains of their food supply - which had consisted mainly of dried up cereal bars and a few mantis legs - and finished it off in the motel room. After that, they'd spent some time with a passing trading caravan, managing to bag two bottles of water each, a few boxes of mashed potatoes and steak, and some ammo for each of their pistols. They'd even found a water bowl for Cheyenne. After saying her goodbyes to Cass and jabbing a Stimpak into her neck for the pounding headache, there was nothing left for Brianna to do but make her way to Boulder City at last.

"Now this sure is exciting," the robot next to them chimed happily, wheeling along the road and waving one arm up and down in what must have been excitement. "All of us on the road together, havin' adventures. Ain't it great, partners?"

Brianna gritted her teeth, hearing a low growl rising in Cheyenne's throat. If this damned robot didn't prove his worth by the time they got to Boulder City, she'd gladly tear it a working asshole and leave it in the dirt. Still, the machine gun that served as Victor's right hand was enough for her to place some faith in the annoyingly chirpy tin can.

"Absolutely wondering, Victor," she beamed. "Let's enjoy it in silence, okay?"

"Okey-doke, partners!"

Their journey continued in peaceful silence, Sunny humming softly under her breath and Cheyenne padding happily along beside her. Brianna continued to gnaw her lip anxiously as she walked, fiddling absently with her Pip-Boy dials. The screen told her that they only had about half a mile left until they reached the city. Her heart thumped with anticipation at the thought of _finally _getting some decent answers.

"Hey," Sunny said, breaking the silence at last. "Look at that guy."

Brianna looked to where Sunny was pointing to, seeing a wide billboard off in the near distance displaying the words: _Holster your weapons at... GOMORRAH. _The sign was complete with a lovely depiction of a woman's ass, a pistol tucked into her black lace stockings.

"When you say 'guy'..."

"What do you-? _Oh. _No, no, not, not that, uh..." She chuckled nervously. "I mean below the, uh, sign. Right there, see?" She unlooped the binoculars from her belt and offered them to her.

Brianna took them with a smile of amusement, holding them to her eyes and following the direction in which Sunny was pointing. She saw him then, all dressed in leathers and reclining on what looked to be a battered old lawn chair. His face was unrecognisable, partially concealed by a leather cowboy hat. She saw that a guitar was leaning against his leg, and a number of bags which presumably contained his belongings were littered about the sand. She frowned, removing the binoculars from her eyes and returning them to Sunny with a questioning look.

"Yeah. What about him?"

Taking the binoculars, she replied, "He looks happy, right?"

"Absolutely bursting with cheerfulness. How does that help our situation?"

She shrugged. "Just pointing him out."

Brianna nodded slowly, continuing to walk. Damned if this woman didn't act strange sometimes. Who the hell just stopped in the middle of a road to point a happy person? And, more importantly, who the hell even sat themselves out in the middle of the Mojave Desert and enjoyed their surroundings in a fucking lawn chair? And in a _leather coat _at that.

"Uh-Oh," Victor's robotic voice chimed. "Looks like our cowboy friend over there's got himself into a tangle with some shifty lookin' bandits."

Sunny and Brianna both stopped in their tracks, watching as another man appeared from behind the fallen billboard, followed by a deal more spilling out from either side. They looked on as one shoved a pistol against the moustached stranger's head before throwing him face-first onto the sand. The others began to root through his belongings, unzipping the bags and dumping their contents out. Brianna could see that all of them were clad in spiked metal armour, most wearing pipes and crowbars at their hips. About seven of them in total, they all wore brightly coloured hair spiked or tied up at wild angles.

_Raiders._

By the time Brianna opened her mouth to speak, Sunny had already drawn her pistol. "We're helping him," she insisted, as if they had been arguing over the matter before. "Come on."

Brianna grinned, pistol already in hand. "Let's go."

Together they sprinted off the road, Victor and Cheyenne following behind. "You seem eager to help out," Sunny commented with a smile. "Was it an inspiring, life-changing dream that threw you on top of my person this morning? Are you walking on the path of light now?"

"Nah," she smirked. "Just havin' a bit of fun."

They didn't wait for the raiders to spot them. A couple were busying themselves by kicking the guitarist senseless as he lay beaten on the sand. Brianna rushed for them, already hearing Victor unleash a spray of bullets on the others behind her. She wasted no time in grabbing the nearest raider by the throat and shoving the barrel of her gun into the back of his skull. She squeezed her finger tightly on the trigger, and the bastard's head exploding into a shower of crimson, splattering the Mojave sands with brain matter and blood. The next was on her before she could blink, iron crowbar raised high in the air. She fired at the torso, but the bullet was deflected by a heavy metal plate. _Shit._

"Night-night, princess!" The raider called, her pink pigtails bouncing as she swung the crowbar. The pointed ends pierced her unprotected side, and Brianna cried out as the pain lanced through her. She staggered, forcing her arm up so she could fire again. The first bullet missed. The second tore through the woman's arm and sent her down, screaming in pain. Gritting her teeth, Brianna smashed her boot into the raider's face, silencing her. She looked up to see the cowboy reaching for his guitar before the final raider could split his head open with a baseball bat. He leapt backwards and onto his feet, the raider's bat smashing into the ground in time for the stranger to smash his guitar into the head of his attacker.

_Impressive._

She spun around on her heels, seeing Sunny fire a quick round into another man's shoulder, sending him sprawling to the ground for Cheyenne to tear out his throat. One more lay dead at her feet, and Victor was in the process of rolling over another with his tire. Only one remained, lunging for Cheyenne with an axe raised high. Sunny downed him with a quick bullet to the leg, and Victor finished him off with a spray of bullets from the machine gun that served as his right arm.

And they were done.

Brianna cursed under her breath, pressing a hand against her bleeding skin. _Shit. _That was bound to leave a scar or two. Sunny moved towards her, gnawing her lip in concern. "Hey, s- Brianna, you okay?"

"Fine," she grunted. "Peachy."

"Huh. Now that was something different." The stranger moved towards them, both hands shoved into his pockets. Remarkably, his hat still remained in place, though his guitar was busted. "Never in my lifetime have I seen anythin' so bold, and I've seen my ma hit my pa more times than you can count. Never seen a robot neither right enough."

"Then this is a great day for new experiences," Sunny beamed. "Sorry about your guitar, though."

"This baby's been through worse. I'll get her fixed up." The stranger dug around in his pockets for a moment, before producing a small pouch and pressing it into Sunny's palm. "Here you go. It ain't much, but I'll do without it. You got about a hundred caps in there. Spend it wisely."

"Oh, no, you don't have to-"

"Yes he does," Brianna smiled. "Thanks. Mind if we, uh..." She directed towards the corpses.

"Go ahead. Just pile 'em up on the road or somethin' when you're done. Brings the geckoes out, and I like watching 'em play."

* * *

Sweat was dripping from Brianna's forehead by the time they made it to Boulder City. The air was thick and heavy, and she dreamed of stripping off her armour and taking a cold bath, preferably in a lake somewhere with a chilled beer and something to fill her rumbling belly. They'd managed to find some ammo for Sunny's pistol and her own rifle, as well as a canteen filled with warm water, a tin of beans, and a fire axe small enough for Brianna to wear at her hip in place of her knife, which she gave to Sunny.

The town (it felt ridiculous to call it a city) was, unsurprisingly, a shit hole. Brianna couldn't find a better way to put it. Almost every upright building was in a state of collapse, and NCR soldiers flitted about like flies around a corpse. Candles burned around a crude memorial statue in memory of some war or another, and a wall of scrap separated Brianna and Sunny from the ruins that lay ahead. That was their problem. A soldier stood firmly by the wall, arms folded and completely unmovable, despite Brianna's insistence.

"We've got a situation here with some Great Khans," he explained, his voice an odd mixture of warm depth and icy dismissal. "Orders are to keep the ruins on tight lockdown until it's been resolved."

Brianna huffed out an impatient sigh. _I don't have time for this. _

"Sir," Sunny began, "I understand that-"

_"Lieutenant," _the soldier interjected. "My name is Lieutenant Monroe, and I have my orders. You stay on the other side of this wall, and things won't have to get any uglier than they already are."

"Look, that just isn't gonna work," Brianna snapped, growing more restless and irritable as each second passed. "I have business with these assholes. Just tell us what the damn problem is, and we can sort it out."

The Lieutenant narrowed his eyes at her, before sighing in defeat. "It started two days ago, when one of my patrols was heading back from Novac and came under fire from the Great Khans."

"And the poor babies couldn't handle it?"

"They were new recruits," he continued, without any sign of having heard the comment. "Thought they could play hero by themselves and didn't radio for reinforcements. Instead they chased the Khans into the ruins without waiting for our backup, and got caught in a crossfire. No deaths, thank God, but not all of the squad got out. They're holding two of our younger soldiers as hostages, Private Ackerman and Private Gilbert. And so far the Khans haven't been very... co-operative."

Brianna feigned a look of surprise. "Really? How strange. Did you make sure to offer them a light snack when you asked them nicely to return your soldiers? You made sure to say 'please' and 'thank you', right?"

Sunny shot her a look. "What she means is, uh-"

"What I mean is that we can sort this shit out for you, if you ask us nicely."

_"You _want to help us?" The lieutenant gave a dry, humorless chuckle. "You both realise that you'll be outnumbered at least ten to two, don't you? We have no idea who you are, and by the looks of you all you intend to do is run in there waving your pistol in the air without any conceivable plan. So you'll forgive me if I decline your proposal."

"And what if we were willing to negotiate with the Khans?" She pressed.

"And how do you suppose that would work?"

"We're gonna do the same thing you did, but better."

The lieutenant studied them for a moment in silence. "Look, if I send my squad in there, those hostages are as good as dead. But you two... It could work. I'll have my troops standing ready on the orders that they head in on the sound of gunfire. It'll probably be too late for you both, however. I trust you understand the risks?"

Sunny nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Just one thing, however, before you enter. I'd advise that you let us keep the dog out here for now. And the, uh... The robot, if you would."

"Yeah... Probably a good idea," Sunny agreed.

"Indeed. The leader is a man named Jessup. You'll find him in the small building at easternmost point of the- ah, what the hell. It's probably the only intact building in there, so you'll know it when you see it. Good luck. You're gonna need it, ladies."

* * *

The place was just as devastated as Brianna expected. The first sight to greet her was a mound of rubble, topped with an overturned car. About five NCR troops were crouched low behind mounds of fallen rock, assault rifles held ready in case things went bad. Sunny gave Brianna a short nod, and together they continued along the cracked road, turning towards the desolate remains of Boulder City. She could already see brightly coloured Mohawks and black leather from the buildings ahead, where the Khans were stationed. Some peered down at them, unconcerned, whilst others snarled and beat weapons against the palms of their hands.

Brianna's hand was tense against her holstered pistol, but she resisted the urge to even hold it at her side. Getting shot in the head by an antsy Khan wasn't high on her list of priorities. Her heart thumped in her chest as the two made their way towards the largest building just ahead, only two floors still standing when there must once have been three or four. Brianna moved by the shattered window, making for the front door before she was stopped suddenly. A cleaver was held against her bandaged throat.

"You gonna be on your best behaviour, princess?" A woman's voice asked, her accent thickly Australian. "'Cause if I hear one nasty word from in there, I'll gut ya like a fish."

"Sorry, could you repeat that again?" Brianna asked, her voice sweet and simpering with innocence before she continued, "I couldn't hear you over the stupid fucking accent."

"Watch your mouth, bitch," the Khan snarled, disappearing from the corner of Brianna's vision and slinking away into the shadows.

"Y'know, you're gonna get yourself killed someday," Sunny said. "If you keep talking like that, I mean."

"We'll see," Brianna replied with a smile. "I've survived worse."

Just ahead, another small building stood. It was surprisingly intact, highly out of place in the desecrated ruin that was the rest of the so-called 'city'. She reached for the handle, her hand tightening around it. But she didn't open the door, finding herself suddenly frozen in place.

"If this is one of the fucks who buried me..."

Sunny placed a reassuring hand on her arm. "We'll handle it. Just don't do anything stupid, okay? If you _do _recognise this guy, well... I guess I won't blame you if you wanna kill him. But you have to promise me that you'll think it through first. Promise that you'll wait and hear what he has to say. We're negotiating, right?"

"Right."

Sunny gave her a warm smile, and Brianna pushed open the door.

"Alright, kiddies," she announced, entering the room and hearing Sunny follow behind her. "We're gonna have a long talk."

It took only a half second for her to analyse the room. It was small, littered with beer bottles and empty packets of food. A table supported a number of glasses and plates, with a small plastic chair sitting neatly beside it. Directly across from the door was a tiny backroom, shortened by a wall of scrap. Two busted mattresses had been thrown there absently. A shovel leaned against the wall behind her. A desk stood in the room's centre, complete with a small cash register and a number of display cases. Behind it stood two people, both male and both in leathers. Only one was familiar.

"What the-" The Khan froze when he saw her. Brianna did the same.

_Tight leathers. Muscular, tanned body. Intricate tattooes. Devoid of expression. Bearded. Scruffy. Bandana. Mohawk. Gruff voice. Barely intelligible. Bored._

_He leaned lazily against his shovel. _

_"You." _He shook his head. "No. No, you're that courier! You're dead!"

"I got better." She drew her pistol, aiming it between his eyes before she could even consider what she was doing. "Where's Benny?"

"Brianna," Sunny warned.

"The _chip. _Where's the platinum chip? Where is it?!"

"I don't have it, alright?!" The Khan displayed his empty palms. "That bastard Benny stole it. Right after he stabbed in the back. I knew we never should have trusted him, but Melissa-"

"I don't care. Where is he?"

"I dunno, probably in Vegas. Laughin' his ass off at us right now, I'll bet. But Jesus, how the hell are you-?"

"Doesn't_ matter,"_ she snapped. "The real question here is, why the hell are _you_ still alive? What's stopping me from putting a bullet between your eyes right now? Let's see if you survive that, assho-"

"Brianna!"

In an instant, the pistol was wrenched from her hand and thrown onto the floor. Brianna looked to Sunny incredulously. "Hey, what the-"

"We're here to _negotiate," _she reminded her with a stern glare. "Just leave it."

Brianna gritted her teeth. "F- _Fine."_

"Thank you." Sunny turned to the Khans. "We're here to settle things between you and the NCR," she explained.

"Settle things," the second Khan repeated, swaggering towards the desk with his arms folded. "Now why would we wanna do that?"

"Because you aren't getting out of here unless you do. Even if you kill us, we still have nearly three times as many NCR waiting out here for you. None of you will leave here alive, even with your hostages."

"Then what's to negotiate?" Jessup asked. "The NCR backs off, we walk outta here. Nobody gets hurt. Well, maybe."

"Killing all of you works out better for the NCR," Brianna said with a smirk.

"Killing us both means that you lose you hostages," Jessup countered.

"Look, just put down your guns, free the hostages you've taken, and you're free to go," Sunny said. "There's nothing to gain here by fighting. They outnumber you."

"Numbers don't mean a thing," the second Khan stated.

"They will when you're being shot at."

"Look," Jessup began, "I'm gonna make this easy for you. Convince the NCR to let us walk free, and we'll release your hostages. It's that easy. Then it'll be up to us to decide whether or not we wanna take the bastards down when they don't expect it. That should be simple enough to understand."

"You like easy, huh?" Brianna asked, sauntering over to the desk and leaning herself across it with a teasing smirk. "I'm easy. And I'm gonna give you one last warning." Her face hardened. "_Do what the woman fucking tells you to do."_

"No. No, we're 'negotiating' here. So I'm gonna tell you exactly what I-"

Her fist collided with his jaw, his next word swelling into a pained cry. Sunny leapt over the desk to meet the second Khan, who was now drawing his pistol. Brianna hit the Khan again, her fist smashing into his left temple and shoving him against the wall.

"Alright! Jesus, we'll nego-"

"Shut up!" She screamed, grabbing him by the hair and yanking him upright so he could slam a fist into his nose. It was all a blur from then, as she tore through his skin with her nails and continued to beat him. His angered shouts soon died into semi-conscious pleas.

"Crying didn't get me anywhere," she reminded the Khan, before turning to Sunny as she wrestled with the second, slamming his head against the cash register. Brianna quickly stepped back, finding her pistol on the floor and swooping down to retrieve it, just as the larger Khan went crashing over the desk, falling at her feet. Sunny slid over the desk.

"What do we do with them?" She asked.

Brianna eyed the barely conscious Jessup with a glare of hostility.

"Brianna... If you shoot him, the rest of them are gonna march right in here. He wasn't the one who shot you, remember? It was just a job for him. Just like your vigilante jobs, right?"

Brianna was silent for a moment, moving to lean against the wall before a thought struck her. Turning around, she found the shovel lying right next to the door, stained with dirt and grime. Shoving her pistol into its holster, she reached for it, adjusting to its weight and size as she moved slowly towards the bleeding Khan.

* * *

"That's right," Brianna said with a smile. "So you're gonna let these two go, or answer to Jessup."

"So if we let them go, we walk out of here without any harm done?" The Khan asked with a look of disbelief.

"No. You let them go, and the NCR decide what happens to you."

"What, and Jessup allowed that?"

She shrugged. Ask him in a few hours, when he wakes up.

"You little-"

"Just leave her, Jerry," a woman's voice ordered.

"Melissa, tell her this is bullshit."

"It ain't," she shot back, stepping into the room. "What do we want with these fuckin' drongos, anyway? Jessup said free them, so we're freeing them."

The Khan, Jerry, groaned loudly. "Ah, fuck it." Fumbling for the knife at his thigh and eyeing the troops at his feet with a look of annoyance. The two were kneeling on the floor, hands bound and tied to each other. Brianna waited as he cut them free, Sunny watching from the other side of the room. In a swift downward motion he cut through the ropes that tied their waists together before moving to free their hands.

"See? Everything worked out peacefully," Brianna beamed.

"Bloody bastards can make their own way out," the woman cursed, folding her arms and moving to let the bewildered NCR troops make their hasty exit from the dilapidated building. "Jerry, round up the others. I'll get Jessup and Andy. Knew this was a waste of time..."

With a short grunt and a nod, the man followed after them, leaving Sunny and Brianna alone with the Khan woman, who clapped her hands together and moved to the centre of the room. "Well this has been right and-" She froze, her eyes locking on Brianna's.

_You've gotta be fucking kidding me._

"No." She shook her head. "No fuckin'... It's _you."_

"Funny, I got a similar reaction from your friend," Brianna spat. "Who I beat the shit out of, by the way."

_"Yeah, just… Do it quickly, Benny, alright?" The woman mumbled, her accent thick. Unrecognisable. She slipped a hand down along her thigh and withdrew a pistol from its holster. It glinted silver._

"Look, I... You gotta understand, I-"

_They're gonna fucking kill me._

"Jessup talked me into it. I never knew it was gonna get so bad, I-"

_"The game was rigged from the start."_

"Just go!" Brianna ordered, seeing Sunny raise an eyebrow in surprise. "Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind." She cursed herself inwardly, hearing her voice tremble. _"Go."_

"I... Thank you. Thank you." After a brief pause, she scurried off.

"What was that?" Sunny questioned. "Is everything okay?"

"Fucking perfect," she grinned. "We're going to Vegas."

* * *

**AN: I hate asking, but I'd really appreciate a review if you liked the chapter! :)**


	15. Low Times

**THE MOJAVE DESERT**

**22 JULY**

**15:03**

_Lights. Music. Drink. Sex. Sweaty hands rubbing against bare skin. Wiggling hips and a cheering crowd. Whiskey, sweat and bottlecaps. The lights and sounds and smells of New Vegas. And voices. So many voices, all the time. And one that rang in her ears._

_"You're nothing. Nothin' but a whore. Don't you forget that, darlin'."_

She wouldn't.

"Brianna? Brianna?"

She blinked, and the Mojave Desert returned to her at once. The sun was burning brightly in a cloudless blue sky. The sand was hot and the road ahead was long. A white flag hung limply in the distance, with no breeze to let it fly. At her side was a panting dog, her one-handed master, and a robot that rolled along the asphalt on a single wheel.

"Uh, yeah, hi," she replied, wincing as a sharp pain stabbed at her side.

"You okay?" She smiled. "You zoned out there for a little bit."

"Yeah. Fine. Never better."

Sunny nudged her playfully. "Oh, come on. We're going to _Vegas!"_

"Yeah, we are." She smiled. The cheerful front came almost naturally to her. It was becoming easier and easier to bite back her annoyance. The blonde always seemed to forget that they were going to '_Vegas, baby', _so that Brianna could kill someone. "You ever been?"

She shook her head. "Nah. I always wanted to go, though. I mean, I'm not a big drinker or gambler or anything. I just wanna _see _it. The lights, the music... Everything, really. And maybe a drink or two wouldn't go amiss." She chuckled. "What about you? Have you ever-" Her smile dropped as realisation dawned on her. "Crap! I'm so sorry! Forget I said anything."

"Hey, you don't have to go treating me like I'm some poor, sad victim, alright?"

"I know, I know, it's just that I shouldn't have even brought it up. But, uh... Are you sure you'll be alright? In Vegas, I mean? Y'know, you're... bound to have a lot of bad memories, right?"

She shook her head. "I drank my way through most of it. Besides, whoring's just, y'know, it's like regular sex. Other than the initial emotional trauma and burning shame that never quite goes away. And the nipple chains, I swear to-"

"Stop. You don't have to keep doing this, alright?"

She blinked. "W- what?"

"You don't...? You don't know what I'm talking about? All of this- this brushing everything away like it's nothing. I know, I know, you're Brianna O'Reilly and nothing ever gets to you, that's how you like to make things seem, but... I can tell when somethings bothering you. And all these breakdowns and attacks, it's just... I can't even imagine how one person could deal with all that, and go on pretending like it's nothing. And before you interrupt me, I know what you're gonna say." She began to imitate her then, her voice a comic imitation of a gruff thug. "It's the fucking wasteland. Fucking people get fucking hurt, and you have to suck it the fuck up and fucking deal with it. And that's what I do, because I'm emotionless and curse a lot to channel my deep, inner anger and emotional trauma because I'm too good for feelings."

Brianna blinked. Opened her mouth to speak. And exploded into a fit of laughter.

"What? No, I'm serious!" Sunny insisted, stopping to look on indignantly as Brianna hunched over, her shoulders shaking with the laughter that racked her body. "You _do _curse a lot, you know! I thought it was an accurate- stop laughing!"

She couldn't. It was _hilarious._ She was such an asshole!She laughed until her lungs hurt more than the pain in her sides, and soon Sunny was joining in too. Cheyenne whined nervously at them, both doubled over in a manic giggle fit, and Victor wheeled around them in concern, asking questions that neither of them could hear over the sounds of their own laughter.

"You're giving yourself away!" Sunny declared, wiping away a tear. "You're a badass! You aren't allowed to feel joy!"

She wobbled upright. "Dammit! My cover's been blown!"

Sunny grinned, and before Brianna could react she was pulled into a tight hug.

"Okay, what's happening?"

Sunny hushed her. "We're friends now. It's official. _Hug."_

_This is ridiculous. _They were hugging right in the middle of an open road. God only knew who might be- _Ah, screw it. _She squeezed the smaller woman back, despite her being at least half a foot shorter than Brianna herself. Actually, it felt... Comforting.

_What the hell is happening to me?_

"You stink," Sunny giggled, pulling away from the hug.

"You're short.

"You _smell."_

"It's the wasteland. People fucking smell, and you get over it," she shot back. "So fucking shut the fucking fuck up you fucking fuck."

Sunny beamed.

"Aw, it sure is nice to see ol' buddies together," Victor commented.

"Yeah," Sunny replied. "It is."

_Just like old times, _Brianna thought bitterly, shaking herself and continuing to walk.

* * *

"It's an NCR post," Brianna explained. The white flag was now fluttering in the breeze, bearing a clear depiction of a two-headed bear growling at a red star. She'd passed through once or twice, but there wasn't much to be found here. The 188 Trading Post consisted of little more than a couple of scrap heaps and a tent, positioned over two wide bridges on an overpass. She'd never stopped to look at what might be on the underpass below, but she didn't expect any more than junk. As they approached, Sunny nodded towards two metal shelters, fashioned out of the remains of an old lorry. One had been bent into a round shape and stuck into the ground to protect crates of various supplies from whatever rain might fall in the Mojave Desert. The other, facing out over the underpass, was completed with a number of wooden crates that crudely formed a bar table. There were no stools, only two picnic tables of peeling green paint that were dotted around the bar's general vicinity. And that was all there was to see. Even the NCR soldiers had abandoned the place, only passing through now and again on patrols. Another person of indiscernible gender stood a ways ahead, staring out towards the Lucky 38 Casino that pierced the sky far into the distance.

"Aw, this is cute," Sunny said with a smile. "We're stopping here, right?"

"Yep. It's as good a place as any. Victor, sit your ass down here until we're done."

"Okey-doke, partner!" He chirped. A sudden outburst of whirring metal and the wheel beneath him disappeared into his metal body. He lowered himself down until the base of his body was on the ground, drawing both of his 'arms' in until he resembled something close to a refrigerator, lying abandoned in the middle of the road. His cowboy face still flickered on his screen.

"Alright then..."

Together they made a beeline for the makeshift bar. "You're the one with the caps," Sunny reminded her, taking a seat on the nearest picnic bench. Cheyenne sat down in front of her, resting her head on Sunny's lap. Raising an eyebrow, Brianna turned towards the bar, suddenly greeted by a man late into his forties, dressed in a heavy brown coat with pockets lining its every visible surface. His face was partially hidden by an old baseball cap.

"Howdy, miss," he said, his voice gruff, with a strong accent. Southern, if Brianna was correct. "Welcome to the 188 Slop 'n' Shop. Like our famous slogan says: It's better than nothin'."

"Sounds appetizing..."

It took some time to find an agreeable price, but in the end she came up with two metal plates piled high with food, two bottles of water, a sarsaparilla for Sunny, and a beer for herself. She set them all out on the picnic bench before sitting herself down.

"This looks tasty," Sunny grinned. "How much?"

"Twenny-fuff capsh," Brianna managed, her mouth already filled with mashed potatoes.

Sunny blinked. "Twenty five? Are you holding his family hostage?"

She shook her head. "Juss purshuashiv."

Sunny raised an eyebrow, before eyeing her plate. Brianna had ordered the same meal for both of them, consisting of mashed potatoes, fried mantis legs with green peppers, a steak of questionable meat, and a roasted squirrel skewered through a stick of small barrel cactus fruits. That silenced her quickly enough. She dug into the mantis legs immediately, as unconcerned as Brianna had been with finding any cutlery to eat with. The meal was delicious, filled with flavour and without that radioactive aftertaste. They were finished within minutes, with Sunny sacrificing her steak for Cheyenne, along with half a bottle of water which they served to her in their new dog bowl.

_"Damned _if I wouldn't eat that again," Brianna said, giving a wide stretch and getting to her feet.

"Yep. The food's great here; just mind the drinks." Brianna turned to the sound of woman's voice from behind her. "I mean the beer's great, if you don't mind the taste of rat urine. But each to their own."

She leaned against the railing of the overpass, her face slightly obscured by a ragged brown hood which completed her frayed, shapeless robes. That was all Brianna could see of her, other than the large pneumatic gauntlet worn on her right hand.

"And you are?"

"A young girl from California with stars in her eyes."

"Right..."

Sunny bounced over to meet them. "Hey there," she smiled.

"Oh, wow. Two of you? Even better!" The stranger squeaked, lowering her hood enough for Brianna to get a clear look at her face. With a long, oval-shaped face, a small, pointed nose and deep brown eyes, she was certainly pretty, in a plain sort of way. Her skin was unusually pale for someone who lived in the Mojave, but she supposed that was due to the hood that concealed the entirety of her hair, if she even had any at all. She was no older than Sunny, with bright, eager eyes and cheeks that were red and flushed with heat.

_Well that's interesting._

"Even better?" Sunny asked, with a questioning frown.

"Oh no, I'm not some kind of lesbian fetishist or anything. In fact, _I'm_ probably the only person within the general vicinity who _doesn't _want to sell your bodies for caps. I mean, I _am_ a lesbian but that is a _whole _other story, let me tell you," she chuckled.

"If you have a point, I'd suggest you make it," Brianna said.

"Yeah, of course! See, I was just wondering... Well, I had a run-in with this group calling themselves the Brotherhood of Steel. Pretty strange bunch, actually. Power armour, laser rifles, the works. Would you happen to know anything about them?"

She did. The assholes were everywhere in DC the last time she'd been, crawling all over the place like radroaches. She didn't know much about them, other than they shot Super Mutants on sight and built gigantic, laser-shooting robots. But that was a few years ago. Things changed. So she replied, "I've had a couple of run-ins, nothing more."

Sunny shook her head. "I've only heard stories. They aren't... They aren't robots, right?"

The woman chuckled. "Maybe. Sometimes you wouldn't know. But I'm getting ahead of myself, right? I'm Veronica. Er, Santangelo. Veronica Santangelo. And you two, well... You're certainly something. I'll be honest, you're the first people I've seen in a while that look like they can actually handle themselves out here. So where are you headed?"

Sunny looked to Brianna expectantly.

"Meeting up with an old friend."

"Really? Because your eyes are screaming 'I'm a psychotic murderer planning my next kill'." She looked to Sunny. "I guess you're the plucky sidekick that calms the raging beast with in her?"

"Something like that."

"Excellent. _Because... _Well, I don't wanna be too forward, but... Okay, I'll just come out with it. There are some places out here that I really wanna see. I can handle myself pretty well, but the roads are just too dangerous for one person. And since my parents told me that there was safety in numbers, I thought that maybe, y'know, we could travel together, maybe help each other out a little bit."

_Huh. _Now that was something to consider. The woman, Veronica, didn't look like much at first glance, but the deadly looking gauntlet on her hand suggested otherwise. And as much as Brianna didn't play well with others at times, she'd spent most of her life leading caravans as a mercenary. She was accustomed to people.

"Help each other out? How? What exactly do you bring to the table?"

"Well, I'm good at punching things. I mean _really _good, not just your average good. I'm also kinda good at shooting things. I've been shooting bark scorpions with a laser pistol since I was eight. Before that I was taking computers apart and putting them back together. I can craft whatever ammo you need if I get the right materials. I also like long walks on the beach and candlelit dinners, but we can talk about that later."

Sunny looked up to Brianna with a hopeful smile. "What do you think?"

She turned to Veronica. "I think that you're a Brotherhood Scribe who isn't telling me something."

Veronica's shoulders slumped. "Dammit! I knew it was the robes. Look, I'm sorry about that. I was gonna tell you, I promise. I just wanted to see if you'd think about my offer first."

"So you lied to us?" Sunny asked.

"I had to. We've made a _lot _of enemies. But I promise not to make any trouble, alright? Just keep me on a really short leash. Considering that I live in a hole in the ground, I don't really get around much." She paused. "No, _not _in that way. I don't actually have a girlfriend, but I did _not _mean it like that. Okay, just walk me regularly, make sure I don't get lost, and look away when I have to tinkle in a bush."

Brianna gnawed on the inside of her lip.

"C'mon," Sunny pressed. "We're making friends, not alliances in a death match. This could be fun."

She sighed. That word again. _Fun._

And then she came out with it all, in rapid speed. "Sometimes I kill raiders for my own personal satisfaction. I can use the word 'fuck' eight times in a single sentence and I will do so without hesitation whenever the hell I feel like it. The old friend I'm reuniting with was the guy who did this to me." She gestured to the scarring on her head. "I plan on getting answers out of him before murdering him in cold-blooded revenge. Sometimes I have panic attacks for no reason I can explain and if you tell this information to anybody I'll kill you without a second thought and feed your mutilated corpse to Cheyenne. How do you feel about that?"

Veronica mulled that over for a moment. "Well, nobody's perfect."

Brianna grinned. "Then let's get going."

Brianna's feet were aching. The road seemed to stretch on for an eternity, yet the lights of New Vegas were only getting closer. Unbearably close. A knot had been winding in her stomach from the moment they first set out with their new companion, and she could taste blood on her tongue from raking the skin of her lip with her teeth.

_What the hell am I gonna do?_

She didn't want this to end. This exploring and fighting and her vengeance-seeking mission. It was her distraction. Now that it was time to finally get the answers she'd been looking for... She was lost.

_Why'd you shoot me where's the chip what part am i playing here you evil fuck why did you have to kill me and why didn't you succeed am i pawn in your game am i disposable am i important what do i do what do i do where do i go what the hell am i doing here and-_

She raked her trembling fingers through her hair, deaf to any conversation that might be taking place around her. Brianna O'Reilly was scared. Not of killing the man who'd shot her, that was for damned sure. No, she was scared - _terrified - _of the answers that she might receive. She wanted to be a part of this... Whatever it was. Whatever the fuck might be happening with her platinum chip, she needed to be in control. To have some part to play. Brianna O'Reilly was _not _a disposable player.

But what if she was?

"You look like you seriously need a soul-searching journey," Veronica remarked, shaking Brianna from her thoughts. "You know, there's this time in a young girl's life when sometimes she just has to practice her sexuality if she wants to learn how to be more confident in the bedroom."

She raised an eyebrow. "I've slept with more girls than you have."

"Oh, is that so?"

"I bet you fifty fuckin' caps. How many people have you _actually_ slept with?"

"Hey, I was young and needed the money, alright?"

It was Sunny's turn to look surprised.

"I'm kidding. The Brotherhood, well... They're too busy creaming themselves over old technology to start hosting any gay pride rallies. I love them to bits, but playing for the other team is strictly forbidden. Something about reproduction, not 'ruining the sanctity of marriage' or anything, by the way."

"Gee, that must feel awful," Sunny said.

"So... You haven't slept with _any _girl?" Brianna pressed, a tiny smirk playing on her lips.

"Hey, I didn't say that. I haven't really been around there much anymore. They send me out grocery shopping. Just scavenging for food and supplies, really. They don't ask any questions if take a night or two out."

"Is that why you're leaving?" Sunny asked.

"No, not exactly. The Brotherhood's always going to be my home, but... It's complicated. For now, let's just say that they aren't going to miss me too much. Most of them will be glad to see the back of me. And not just because of my _spectacular _behind."

"Your behind of questionable spectacularity has been pretty much swallowed by that robe," Sunny pointed out. "Have you ever thought about changing it? We can find some armour for you, if you want."

"No thanks," she replied quickly. "I'm good."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"And what about in Vegas?" She pressed, barely containing a smile. "You _cannot _pick up a guy - girl, I mean - wearing those."

"I _know, _right?" She gushed. "_You _try to get a date wearing scribe robes. Might as well be wearing sweat pants. I've always wanted to find the perfect dress. It's part of the reason I'm out here, in fact."

Brianna blinked. "You came out here to find a _dress?"_

"I know it sounds a little crazy, but I've just always wanted one. A good one. Those pre-war ladies, they knew what they were doing. I want to feel like a woman. I want to feel classy and sophisticated sometimes. So I need a dress. One that's classy, elegant, but also says _'don't fuck with me'."_

"Well I'm sure there's enough in Vegas to last you a lifetime," Sunny beamed.

"If we can afford it," Brianna muttered below her breath. There may have been one small, teeny-tiny detail she was withholding from the group. Even if they did make it to Vegas before nightfall, it would take much longer to get into the Strip itself.

"Afford it?" Sunny asked. "We still have a hundred caps, right?"

"Sure. But a hundred caps isn't quite two thousand."

"Two thousand?" Veronica scoffed. "I get that dresses are pricey, but I was thinking more along the range of two hundred, two hundred and fifty, maybe. I might have to sell myself on the street for a night or two, but I live for the new experiences."

"No... What _did _you mean?" Sunny asked.

"I mean that if you want into Vegas, you gotta pass a credit check. Some stupid shit to prove that you aren't a chemhead or a raider."

Sunny pursed her lips. "And you didn't think to mention that?"

"I figured that it works out pretty well for me. Us, I mean. Gain some notoriety in Freeside by getting some work. Can't be that hard. The place is a shit hole, but it's one of the best places for jobs."

"But-"

_"And _we'll freak the hell out of bag-of-dicks Benny when he hears about some foul mouthed bitch with a fucked up face roaming around Freeside." _And it'll buy me more time to freak the hell out of myself again and again._

"Well, if you're sure. I guess we could use some caps anyway," she replied uncertainly.

"Yeah..." Brianna mumbled.

"Well, with any luck, we'll make it to Freeside in... An hour, maybe?"

"Great," Brianna smiled.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck._

"Hey," Veronica began. "I can tell your shitting in your armour. Metaphorically, I mean! But really, you don't have to be worried about anything. I don't know what went on between you and the wild goose you're chasing, but come _on. _Look at you! You're sexy, confident, and carrying more weapons than I've ever seen on a Brotherhood Knight. You're a sassy lady! You can handle this!"

"Really?" She asked with a frown.

"Things aren't that bad, right? No end-of-the-world situations or anything? Because that _sucked _the first time."

She sighed. "It's time I tell you everything, isn't it?"


	16. High Times

**FREESIDE, EAST GATE**

**22 JULY**

**17:29**

"And here we are."

Brianna was barely able to suppress her grin. After all that had happened, after all the hell she'd been through, she was finally _here. _After Nipton and Primm and Boulder City, and all the hell that came in between. And she'd _made it._ Freeside was their next step, their _final _step. All that terror that had slowly been building up inside her was quickly ebbing away, and her heart hammered with raging anticipation. She was so, _so _close to getting the answers she needed, so _achingly _close to having the opportunity to make a new name for herself. She had been Whore and Slut and Skank. She had been even worse. Now, she wasn't sure what she'd be. But those names would soon be far behind her.

_Almost there._

Freeside had never been anything but a dilapidated hole of vice and depravity. A pre-war stand against everything that was good; a rat-infested pit for the wicked and lecherous. That much was evident even by the entry gates, constructed of metal so old that its true colour was buried beneath a thick layer of rust and grime. A number of large, multicoloured rectangles exploded out from the top of the gate, made entirely from scrap and crudely painted to look like Jokers and Kings. Beyond the scrap walls was a towering metal structure with no discernible use. A metal ring positioned atop two bending legs that stood on either side of it, the thing - whatever it was supposed to be - displayed the word 'FREESIDE' in flickering neon, barely readable against the pink Mojave sky.

_The bombs should have destroyed this place._

"And it's just as I expected," Veronica commented matter-of-factly, folding her arms as she studied the gates, and the New Vegas skyline that lay beyond it. "Disgustingly flaunted wealth surrounded by extreme poverty. We haven't changed a bit, have we?"

"Wow," Sunny breathed. "This is it, huh? Next stop: New Vegas." She looked to Brianna with buzzing excitement. "You look eager. What changed?"

"The scenery," she replied, with the flicker of a smirk.

"Really? This place doesn't look like much."

"No. No it doesn't."

She moved to grip the gate's rusting bars, pulling on them with a groan stifled behind gritted teeth. The gate swung out towards them and she stepped back. "Think you've seen poverty?" She asked, directing her question to both of the women behind her. "You haven't seen a fucking thing."

Brianna was the first enter, with Veronica and Sunny following on either side. Cheyenne padded along with a long whine of uncertainty, and Victor wheeled behind them, unusually quiet. In fact, since they'd first found themselves within the view of Freeside, the robot hadn't spoken a word. Brianna considered that to be a relief; the last thing she needed was a tinny, drawling voice intensifying her already thumping headache.

Although Freeside was big enough to dwarf Boulder City, it wasn't any fucking prettier. The road ahead of them was old and cracked, stretching out almost beyond Brianna's sight. To their right was a row of dilapidated buildings, each constructed from ugly, red brick. The nearest was without a roof, the walls of the top floor completely wiped away. All windows had been smashed in and doors kicked down. Just ahead, to their left, was a much larger building, lying in ruins. When she'd been here last, the place had been used as a drug den for squatters that had no other hole to crawl into. She doubted things had changed.

The roads were quiet, with only a few rough-looking strangers lying against the cracked pavement, most surrounded by empty bottles of beer. A stranger in leathers leaned against an upright lamp-post, burning his own wrist with a cigarette and giggling softly to himself. Another junkie further on was attempting to bite through his Jet inhaler. It was a sad, yet darkly comical sight. A blonde woman strutted along the road in nothing but a black leather thong, and boots - which Brianna had once dubbed 'Fuck-Me Boots' - reaching all the way up to her thighs. The whore's back was turned to the group, revealing no signs of anything covering her chest. To their right were three people, all dressed in heavy armour and smoking cigarettes.

"People actually need mercenaries to escort them around?" Sunny wondered, keeping her voice low as they passed the armed guards.

"A beautiful lady like you must need someone to escort her around this dangerous city," a voice drawled in reply.

"Oh, uh... No thank you," Sunny said, looking nervously up at the mercenary. He stood over a head taller than Sunny herself, his huge, muscular arms left bare. Brianna eyed him with passive interest, Veronica sparing him only a glance of disinterest.

"Now, now, no need to be so shy," he continued. "I'm the best New Vegas has to offer, sweetheart." He swaggered over towards the hesitant Sunny Smiles, who recoiled at his touch as the guard rested a hand on her arm. "Only two hundred caps, and I'm all yours."

Brianna could sense Sunny's discomfort, and quickly intervened. With her right hand she wrenched his arm away from the smaller blonde before using her left to reach for the axe at her thigh. She tossed the weapon into the air before catching it by the handle in her right hand and extending the head towards him. "My daddy told me never to trust strange men," she said with a smile. "Told me that if I wanted someone dead, I best do the job myself."

"Alright, alright." He displayed his palms in a mock display of fear. "Just be careful with that axe. Wouldn't want you hitting yourself on the-"

She twirled the axe around and drove the blunt end into the side of the mercenary's head, drawing a loud cry of pain. The guard at his left looked on with a bemused expression while the other, a woman, quickly turned away to hide her laughter. Brianna secured the axe to her thigh once again before drawing her pistol.

"Don't want me shooting myself in the foot either?" She questioned, aiming the pistol at the mercenary's head as he pressed a hand against his temple, wobbly as he attempted to stand upright. "How about we find out just how accurate my aim is?" With a grin she continued, "Oh, wait. I'm at point-blank range with no chance of missing that perfect little target between your eyes."

"Or do you think she, as a woman, is too brainless to know how to pull a trigger?" Veronica asked, moving towards him with her metal Power Fist fully on display. "Or maybe you don't think I'm strong enough to crush your dick with a pneumatic gauntlet? Assuming you have one, of course."

"Cheyenne's a female too," Sunny supplied, attempting to steady her shaking voice. "Or does that fact prevent her from tearing your throat out?"

"Better answer quickly," the female guard said with a smirk. "Can't imagine you'd find anyone east of the Fort who'd want a guard with a torn-up dick and a dog at their throat."

The mercenary snarled at them. "Get the fuck out of here," he spat.

They did, with Brianna flipping the guard off as they walked past, and hearing the female mercenary roar with laughter until they neared the end of the street. Sunny continued on in silence, opening her mouth every few seconds to speak, but thinking better of it.

"You don't have to thank us," Veronica finally concluded, seeming to read Sunny's thoughts. "I don't mind crushing misogyny every now and then. It's surprisingly refreshing, in fact. And unbelievable. How exactly do so many people go on objectifying women after _atomic bombs _have basically destroyed the planet? You'd expect them to reconsider their priorities."

Sunny opened her mouth to reply, before she was interrupted by a robotic voice. "Goodbye, partners," Victor said. Even for a robot, his voice was surprisingly monotone, devoid of his usual cheeriness. Without another word, the robot set off along the road and disappeared around the corner.

"Well that was... Odd," Veronica supplied. "Is he looking for Dorothy?"

"I _am _Dorothy," Brianna grumbled. "My Tin Man is off to see the wizard."

"I think there's something that doesn't _quite _add up with him," Sunny opined.

"Like the fact that he's been following us here from fucking Goodsprings?"

"something like that..."

She trailed off as a rat scampered across their path, about half the size of the dog at her heels. Two children raced after it, a boy and a girl. Both were dressed in tattered clothing, with machetes raised high. They were giggling in excitement. Laughing.

"Oh my god," Sunny breathed. "What... How...?" She sighed. Brianna glanced in her direction, then did a quick double take. Sunny's face did not reveal the sadness and despair that she had expected. Instead her eyes flashed with cold anger, the corner of her lip curling in disgust. The expression lasted for a split half-second, but Brianna could _feel_ the rage seething from the blonde's tiny form. "How can anyone live like this? There are kids here chasing _rats _like it's a game to them. Kids with _weapons."_

"You didn't expect any better, did you?" Veronica asked. The question seemed genuine. "This is the extreme poverty that goes hand-in-hand with excessive wealth."

"This is where they all go," Brianna finished for her. "The ones who leave the Strip. They blow all their caps at the tables, or win big and get the shit beaten out of 'em. Wake up and here they are, not a bottle cap to their fuckin' name. The rest of them come here expecting to get into Vegas. They all have plenty of caps. Decide to spend a night in Freeside, and find that they have drinks to pay for. Rooms, food, weapons. And unless you know where to find work, the money just decreases and decreases and then they're stuck here. Five years later and they're still wondering just what the hell happened."

Sunny nodded slowly, her one hand tightening into a fist. "Yeah. Yeah... So, uh, what are you planning?" She asked. "I mean, how are we going to find work in this place?"

"I'm still up for the prostitution," Veronica piped, her tone light and jokey.

Yet anger surged in Brianna's veins.

"Don't you fucking joke about that," she snapped. "We aren't _them, _alright? We aren't these low-life scumbags who crawl around this place like fucking roaches. We are _above _these people. We're above stealing and whoring and begging. So do _not _compare us to _them. _We're gonna grab this shit hole by the _tits _and milk it for all it's worth. Grab it by the _dick _and suck it dry."

Veronica raised an eyebrow before a sudden voice interrupted them. "You want something to suck dry?" The whore giggled, skipping towards them with curls and breasts bouncing. "Head on down to the _Atomic Wrangler!"_

Brianna eyed the woman with evident disgust. Her hair was an alarming canary yellow, curling around her shoulders, and her nipples were covered by strips of black tape. Other than her feminine parts, the rest of her body was fully on display, all tanned curves and perfect angles. There was nothing to hide the blotches of discolouration that marked her skin, where bruises had been hastily covered with make-up. Her nails were painfully cracked and her teeth were yellowing, but with a full, smiling face she was strikingly beautiful. Her voice was high and piercing as she continued cheerfully, "It's the _best _bar in town! The booze is cheap, the food is fresh, and the women are _just _like the booze!"

Brianna glanced at her companions, who nodded in confirmation.

_Time for a drink._

* * *

The Atomic Wrangler was, as their slogan promised, the best bar in Freeside. Not thanks to any flashing lights or wonderful shows, but more due to the fact that it stood as the _only _bar in Freeside. The place was drab enough to put Brianna to sleep as soon as she walked in through the door. A number of round, wooden tables stood around the stage at the left side of the room, with three plush, orange chairs to each one. Only one chair was taken by a stranger in a straw hat, who seemed to have passed out half-way through her fifth bottle of whiskey. To their right was the bar itself, also deserted aside from the owners who stood behind it, waiting for the next staggering drunk to throw more money their way. The casino was in another room at the opposite end, promising a single blackjack table and a handful of busted up slot machines. The place was very much dead, but if the slutty crier outside had been truthful, the booze here would be as cheap as the women they sold, wherever those women might be. She couldn't see a single whore in the place.

"This is cozy," Sunny remarked, looking genuinely impressed by what little the bar had to offer. She moved for a seat, stopping for a moment as Cheyenne padded in, and looking at the bartenders expectantly. Their lack of reaction towards the dog seemed to be enough for the blonde, who sat herself down with a content sigh in front of the empty stage.

"I've seen more life in a Brotherhood Knight," Veronica commented. "And trust me, you'd find more enjoyable company in a radroach."

"Things a bit too quiet for your liking, sweetheart?" One of the bartenders inquired, leaning intently over the bar. Brianna struggled to remember his name. _Jim? Jay... Jame... Jamie? Jame... James. _That was it.

"Or too empty?" The second asked, a woman this time. Francine, she recalled.

"Lacking booze?" James asked.

"Food?"

"Company?"

"Whores?"

And at last James finished, "Rush hour starts at six. Everythin' you need will be taken care of."

"We've got liquor, chems, and whores a plenty," Francine explained. "Pick your fix and we'll oblige. Our only rule is 'no sampling the merchandise'. Caps paid in advance."

"How long have you be rehearsing that one?" Brianna asked, studying the bartenders for a moment. The Garret twins hadn't changed one bit. Their features were strikingly similar, even with their opposing genders. Both had high, pronounced cheekbones, a square jaw, and light brown hair. The female wore hers in a high bun, while the male's was neatly parted to the left side. They each donned matching, cream coloured suits with bright red ties.

After a few minutes of intense bartering, the two women returned to their table. Veronica had paid for her own poison of choice, a Nuka Cola and Vodka with two tiny strawberries wedged on the edge of the glass. Upon Brianna's inquiry, the bartenders explained that the NCR's Sharecropper Farms were now up and running just outside of Freeside, providing the Wrangler with the first strawberries Brianna had seen in her lifetime. She herself returned with a chilled beer in each hand, one of which was passed to Sunny before she sat herself down next to the blonde.

"Drink up," she advised, taking a swig from her bottle. When the Garret twins were serving your drinks, you never needed a bottle opener. All because the cheap bastards took the bottle caps off first and kept them for themselves. "When the whores come in, you'll wanna be real tipsy."

Sunny smiled. "I'd rather save up some money for Vegas."

"Hey, the prostitutes aren't any fucking cleaner."

"Well if we're blowing our money on drinks tonight, I want to be able to afford food tomorrow. We only have, what? A hundred caps left?"

"Three."

_"Three?!"_

Veronica burst into laughter behind her glass.

"Three _hundred, _dumbass," Brianna corrected, much to Sunny's apparent confusion.

"No." She shook her head. "We had two hundred after the NCR-"

"Back in Goodsprings," she went on. "Ringo Hendricks, remember? Gave me two hundred caps for helping him out."

"And you only thought to tell me _now?"_

"I was saving it," she argued.

"For _what?! _That night in Novac when we couldn't even afford a bed between us, was _that _not important enough?!"

"I was saving it for the fucking credit check!"

"You didn't tell us about the credit check until an _hour _before we got here!" She yelled. Cheyenne gave a low whine from beneath the table. "I thought you forgot all about it!"

"Well my fucking apologies for not wanting to blow all our caps on two beds!"

Sunny opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. Sighed. "You're an asshole."

"It's part of my character."

She gave her a pointed look. You're buying me a nice dress in Vegas."

"I c-"

_"Maybe," _a woman slurred from somewhere behind them. A hand clapped down on Brianna's shoulder. "Maybe you could go and buy _me _a fuckin' drink, sweetheart."

Brianna froze for a moment, before gritting her teeth and shaking her head slowly in denial. When she turned around, she would see a drunken lowlife giggling behind her, all rotted teeth and wasted, sunken skin. Probably a prostitute or a junkie, and not the person whose voice was so painfully familiar. _Don't... Fucking..._

She got to her feet and turned around.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy barked out a laugh. "So it _was _you. Guess that rules out my chances of gettin' in your pants, huh? But since we're buddies..." She giggled. "Go on. Buy me a whiskey. _Pleeeeeease?"_

Brianna blinked, nonplussed. "Cass... What the _fuck-?!"_

_"Shhh!" _The woman teased. "You talk too noisy."

"No. No, what the _hell _are you doing here?!" She demanded. "What happened?"

"I got thirsty. And I wanted a whiskey."

Brianna's palm _cracked _across the woman's freckled cheek. "Remember how I sobered you up last time, sweetheart? How would like a fucking ice bath, this time?" She spat through clenched teeth.

"Alright, alright!" The redhead's voice was slightly clearer now, but she was still very much drunk as she caressed her stinging cheek. "I went to find the caravan, _okaaaay? _Wanted to say my goodbyes and start a nice, new life. And then I found the fucking thing and it was shit so I bought a whiskey. And then I bought _two _more whiskeys. And _then,"_ she explained, "and then I couldn't afford any more whiskeys. So then _you _came in. And here we are!"

Brianna blinked incredulously. "Is she drunk or crazy?" She heard Veronica ask Sunny, who didn't respond as she looked on in confusion. "I can never quite tell the difference before they're in bed."

"Well I wouldn't mind getting _you _in bed," Cass replied with a titter.

"Well this is just great," Brianna smiled. "Let's all make passionate love together and forget that you're a washed out old _fuck up, _Cass!"

"What are you tryna say?" She slurred.

"I'm saying you're gonna stick your finger down your throat and puke up all the shit you've been drinking before I do it for you."

"How about you let me drink in peace, and then maybe I'll-"

No. They didn't have time for this. Brianna grabbed the woman's left wrist with one hand, and used the other to knock the hat from her head, despite her protests. "Hold still," she said, quickly jamming a finger down Cass' throat as far as she could reach. The gagging came almost instantly, and Brianna held out for a few seconds before pushing the woman forward and allowing her to puke up whatever whiskey wasn't yet flowing through her bloodstream.

"Oh, that is _gross," _Sunny complained, quickly turning her head away and shielding her eyes with one hand. Veronica simply watched with a disgusted expression as Cass straightened herself up, wiping her mouth and staggering for a moment before finding support on the back of Veronica's chair.

"Do that again and I'll throw up in your mouth," Cass managed, her face pale and hands trembling.

"Next time it's the ice bath," she warned. "And you're coming with us."

"Like hell I am. Thought I made it pretty fuckin' clear that-"

Brianna slapped her again.

"Jesus! Alright, alright, fuck! Just don't expect some kinda miraculous recovery if you drag me off to Vegas. They have a lot of fuckin' whiskey there."

"I'm not gonna stop you from drinking, Cass. Right now, we're gonna talk, and we're gonna drink. We're gonna drink a whole fucking lot."

* * *

It was rush hour, alright. After a half hour of slow drinking and attempting to talk sense into a loudmouthed redhead, it was time for the rats of Freeside to scamper in. The place was filled with people now, some in expensive suits and dresses that would soon be stolen right off their backs, and others wearing little more than rags. Some had sunken cheeks and yellowing skin, whilst others were eye-catching with their styled hair and forceful laughter. Aside from the few beggars that were quickly dispatched by the Garret twins, everyone had a drink in hand. And from Brianna's experience, she knew that most people were a lot more interesting when they were drunk.

Brianna O'Reilly had her tongue down someone's throat. She didn't know the woman's name, and she didn't care. Neither did the cheering men that stood around them as she pinned the stranger against the wall, laughing through the kiss and raising her middle finger to whoever stood behind her. She didn't see Sunny fighting off the lecherous hands of another heavy drinker, or Veronica as she fiddled with the wires of the Garrets' broken radio. What she did see was the face of Rose of Sharon Cassidy as she pulled herself away from the woman she'd been kissing. Who had turned out to be Cass all alone.

"Oh... Oh shit," Brianna began, taking a quick step back before erupting into laughter, leaning against the bar for support.

"I _knew _your breath smelled like... Like _dick," _Cass laughed. "Shoulda realised it was you!"

"Least I don't smell like whiskey," she shot back. In her peripheral vision she could see Sunny cracking her palm against a stranger's cheek, and quickly moved for her table.

"You alright?" She asked, fighting to be heard over the noisy chatter of over twenty people.

"Fine," Sunny yelled back. "Did you see the robot?"

She had. With its egg-shaped metal body, Brianna had assumed that it was simply a patrol bot. Only after a second glance did she see that the word 'FISTO' was printed over its torso. It didn't take a huge stretch of the imagination to guess what it was used for. And that wasn't even the strangest thing they had seen all night. Seated at one of the bar stools was a ghoul, barely recognisable as a female with saggy, wrinkled breasts and stringy, pink flesh that hung limply off her bones. Ghouls were relatively common in Freeside, but ghoul hookers... Somewhat less so. This one wore a black cowboy hat atop her head to conceal what pathetic few strands of hair still hung there limply. Covering her more intimate parts were two leather straps, both bound together by tight chains. The rest of her veiny, decaying flesh was fully on display, complete with a pair of high, leather boots and two fingerless leather gloves. She carried a bullwhip, which rested on her lap.

"You think that one gets any customers?" Brianna wondered aloud.

"Only the very brave and very, very drunk," Veronica replied, jumping over from behind the bar. A faint tune now played from the radio, thanks to the scribe's assistance. Remarkably, her scribe robes remained fully in place, and her hood still concealed whatever hair she might have. Her cheeks were flushed with heat, however, and sweat glistened on her forehead.

"What are the chances of getting that one for free?" Brianna asked, nodding in the direction of one of the female dancers on stage. She couldn't quite make out her face, but the way her hips shook...

"Zero," Sunny said with a grin.

"Damn."

"So what's with you, anyway?" The blonde asked. "You know, what team do you play for?"

Brianna shrugged, leaning against the table. "Doesn't matter to me?"

"So, you have low standards, or...?"

"I just don't care," she finished for her. "When you grow up in the Wasteland, you don't get to be picky."

"Huh." Sunny mulled that over for a moment. "I guess I would be open to... You know what? Never mind. Girl parts are gross."

"You won't say that in a few minutes," she grinned, moving for the bar. It looked like Francine was the only one at the bar, which immediately struck her as strange. However, after a quick scan of the room, she found that FISTO was nowhere in sight. _Fucking hell._

"Hey, kid," Francine called, leaning over the counter. "I wanted to talk to you. Well, to say thank you. You made us some good money. Thanks for that."

Brianna gritted her teeth and sat herself down at an empty bar stool, as far away from the ghoul as she could get. "Don't pull that crap with me, Francine. I was nothing more than stock to you. An attraction, a cheap bottle of whiskey that kept people coming back for more. I earned you money, that's all you cared about. That's all you ever cared about. So don't you dare act like I was one of your fucking business partners. I was your whore, Francine."

"You were. But you were different. All that time you spent with us, and that hungry look never left your eye. You wanted out, unlike most of the others you see milling about here. Unlike them, you never stopped trying to get out of here, and you did it. Good on you."

"Is there a point behind this conversation?" She snarled.

She smiled. "Clever girl. Look, I'll explain this quickly. There's a woman here that goes by the name of 'Lady Jane'. Used to be she was the most condescending bitch in this place, before her caravan was destroyed and she got herself stuck here. She's running with a bunch of thugs, selling chems to pay her way back to California. Long story short: she owes us money. Two hundred and ten caps. If you see her, I'm not asking you to put your life on the line. Just take the job, and I'll knock off the price of your room. Don't forget to remind her that _nobody _fucks with the Garret twins."

"Sure, sure. And what if I don't?"

"You're used to sleeping on the street. It shouldn't prove to be a challenge."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're one heartless bitch."

"We have that in common. Now, what would you like."

"... Two rooms." She would have to say goodbye to a bottle of absinthe for her and Sunny. Now _that _would be a hilarious experience. But at one hundred and fifty caps, she wouldn't risk spending any more.

_Probably for the better. _

"Fine. Two for the price of one, how's that sound? Fifty caps."

* * *

Brianna threw herself down on the bed, not feeling her face hit the pillow. The room was _big, _with the bed taking up the majority of its size. Her mind was clouded, dizzy, drunk. Her rucksack was somewhere on the floor, if she could just... Reach... Down...

The door flew open. With a groan, Brianna turned herself around, expecting Cass to appear in the door frame. She sat herself up, prepared to argue over sharing the bed and-

She was greeted by a woman in sheer lace, and nothing but. She closed the door gently behind her and turned, sauntering towards Brianna with a playful smile and hips that moved so beautifully and...

"Yep. You'll do."

* * *

Rose of Sharon eyed the whiskey bottle cautiously. The bar was only getting busier, and the more eyes she felt on her the more she wanted it. That fucking bottle. She lived with the hope that some miraculous epiphany would be found at the bottom of that bottle.

But she couldn't.

She _wouldn't._

She had an hour to waste while her friend was getting laid by a beautiful woman. An hour to drink her problems away and drown herself in whiskey.

So Rose of Sharon Cassidy left the bar behind her, and took a long, long walk into the night.

* * *

Veronica lay down on the bed, puzzling. As usual. She eyed the gauntlet that now lay on the carpeted floor, and ran her finger along the hood of her frayed robes. Whatever business her new travelling companion had in Vegas... It would be done soon. Over. Ended. And that woman, Brianna O'Reilly, could be endlessly helpful.

Maybe.

She wasn't the kind of person to use someone. That wasn't her. She wanted the friendship of Brianna and Sunny. The two were a lot livelier than the assholes back in Hidden Valley, and she _longed _to see the sights in Vegas, and beyond that. Her heart was thirsty, thirsty for change. Experience.

But it could wait for tonight.

* * *

Sunny sat at the edge of the bath as the water ran. Her leather armour had been abandoned on the dusty tiles, leaving her body naked. Exposed. She gazed at the mirror and looked guilty. Hurt.

Angry.

She hated the tattoos and despised their beauty. Intricate, colourful designs that seemed to flow along skin, along her arms and legs. Some patterns were broken by the slashes of pale scars. She had long since stopped trying to cut them from her skin. That part of her was over.

Dead.

* * *

**AN: Sorry about the long wait for this one. Writer's block is a bitch, but I hope you still enjoy the chapter. Review!**


	17. The Silver Rush

**THE ATOMIC WRANGLER**

**JULY 23**

**09:21**

_"You know I love you."_

_She tried to tell her. Tried and tried, repeating the words over and over again until her throat was raw and her lungs were burning. She slammed her fists down on the heavy glass, pounding with all of her strength as hot tears ran down her cheeks._

_"I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you!"_

_She was pleading. Desperate. Grace had to hear her. She had to know. But the girl was beyond her reach, standing on the other side of the glass with her back pressed against it as she slid down, and down, and down._

_She was deaf to her own pleas, deaf to the wailing of alarms. She wouldn't run. Not this time, not like she had before. She would wait here, and wait and wait until the girl she had loved stood up._

_"Please... Please get up..."_

_Tears were falling, rolling down her cheeks. _

_And the glass shattered into a million pieces._

_And she was blind and deaf and numb._

And Brianna O'Reilly woke up screaming.

* * *

"You gonna tell me what fuck is wrong with you?"

Cass hammered on the door of the en suite. The sound of her fist colliding with the wood sent lances of pain shooting through Brianna's skull. She couldn't stand. She couldn't speak. She could only throw up violently into the toilet and grip the edges of the bowl for support lest she fall into the damned thing head-first. The pain was astonishing, as it had been when she had first woken up in Goodsprings. Worse.

Her medical bag was in the rucksack underneath her bed. Miles away. When she'd first woken from the nightmare, her first intention had been to retrieve it, to rummage for the stimpak that would give her some relief from the agony. Her hands had shaken too much to allow her any grip, and the churning in her stomach had been all too much to bear.

"Open up, sunshine!" Cass called. "You can take your alcohol almost as well as I do. Don't act like your throwing up in there!"

Another loud retch from Brianna was enough to silence her, as the last of the beer in her system was thrown up into the toilet. She reached for the handle, pulling it down and flushing away the vomit whilst simultaneously pulling herself up. The entire bathroom span around her.

"Wha...?" She croaked. "The... Fuh...?"

She didn't hear the bathroom door opening. She could only register the faintest grumbling of "Fucking hell" as the skin of her neck was pierced, making her wince in pain. She could detect the lightest scent of mint from Cass' breath, but could barely see the woman beside her. Not until a warm sensation flooded through her veins, clouding her mind and quickly taking the edge away from the pain.

"Think you can stay up?"

"Yeah... I got it..." She leaned against the sink, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion.

"Jesus, what did that fucking whore do to you last night?"

_"You _set that up?"

"Hey, it was a favour. Forget about it, and tell me what's up."

She raised an eyebrow at the redhead, finally seeing her clearly. Her red hair tumbled down past her shoulders, brushing lightly against her pale, freckled arms. Her eyes were darkly rimmed; her cheeks were burning and she stood in only her chequered shirt and a pair of blue panties. The shirt was only half buttoned from the bottom, allowing full view of her cleavage. Brianna didn't pay any mind to her friend's current state of undress. They'd travelled together long enough to have seen each other naked on more than one occasion.

"I got shot in the head," Brianna stated, seeing Cass' look of expectancy.

"Yeah. So?"

"So my brain's fucked. I get headaches. Bad ones."

"Do they wake you up screaming in the middle of the night?"

She gritted her teeth. "Maybe they do."

And with that, she left the half-naked woman standing on her own in the bathroom, arms folded angrily across her chest. Whatever answers Cass was expecting, she wouldn't get them.

They had more important things to worry about.

* * *

"Morning!" Sunny chirped, blooming out from the next room and moving to join Brianna down the stairs.

Sometimes she envied the blonde for her cheeriness, wondering just how the hell anyone could smile so brightly with what must have been a pounding hangover headache. As they made their way down the stairs, both fully dressed and fully loaded with weapons, Brianna studied the woman curiously, seeing nothing that immediately struck her as being out of the ordinary. Sunny's hair was pulled up into what had become her trademark ponytail, and Cheyenne cautiously poked her nose against the first stair before padding along behind her master. Other than the noticeable puffiness of Sunny's eyes - which Brianna assumed was in some way related to her hangover - she was her usual bright and breezy self. She wondered how Sunny managed it.

"Sleep well?" The blonde asked, with a warm smile.

"Yeah. Fine."

Sunny pursed her lips, lowering her voice slightly. "You sure?"

"Look, I had bad dream, alright?" She snapped. "It's fine."

"I know, I know," the woman assured her. "I was just making sure."

Veronica was waiting downstairs for them, already helping herself to breakfast, which seemed to consist of a bottle of water and a plate of various fruits. The two moved down to join her, seeing that their own plates had already been laid out on the table.

"You look like you've seen better days," the Scribe remarked, eyeing Brianna with a playful smirk.

"She could rip that hood off you before you could say 'No! You'll reveal my extra head!'" Sunny said with a laugh, stretching widely before digging into a crunchy mutfruit. "I'd be careful if I were you."

"An extra head, huh? I dunno; I think I'd need a bigger hood."

"Third eye, then?" Sunny guessed.

"So close."

"Go on," the blonde insisted, leaning over the table. "Why do have that thing?"

Veronica saw Sunny's eager look and sighed. "It's nothing, really. Nothing important. I just..."

"Spit it out," Brianna chided through a mouthful of banana yucca.

"I don't like my hair, okay?"

Sunny sat back down. "Is that all?"

"Well I'm sorry I don't have a genetic abnormality that's exciting enough for you," Veronica said, her tone light and unserious.

"You _do_ live in the Wasteland. I thought you must have a third arm growing out of your belly button, at least."

"Maybe my third arm is in an embarrassing place."

"If you don't shut the fuck up you'll have an extra arm up your ass," Brianna threatened, massaging her temples and finishing the last couple of beer cactus fruits on her kebab.

"As a lesbian, I could live with that."

Sunny almost choked on her food with laughter, stopping only when Cass emerged to clap a hand down on her back.

"What the hell did I miss?" She asked, sitting down to join them.

"Veronica likes fishtung," Brianna managed through another mouthful of fruit.

"Fish tongue?" Cass said with a frown, taking a seat beside her.

"Fushthing," Brianna attempted, swallowing the food.

"Fish... Thing?"

Sunny was at the point of collapsing with laughter, along with Veronica who soon joined in.

"Fisting!" Brianna concluded, shouting to be heard over the giggles of the other women.

The bar fell silent, the few men that remained seated at the bar glancing over from their meals.

"That wasn't a suggestion," Brianna snapped. The men quickly returned to their food.

They finished off their meals quickly, Cass soon moving for the bar. She returned with a bottle of whiskey in hand, looking at the other women expectantly. "Well?" She asked, taking a seat. "You think we're gonna earn some money just by sitting here and looking at each other?"

"I guess she has a point," Sunny said, looking to Brianna. "Well, sweetie? What are you thinking?"

She paused for a moment in thought. There were plenty of places to find work in Freeside if you were willing to sell yourself on the street. Other than that, very few establishments offered any decent jobs that didn't involve shooting someone and turning yourself into the sworn adversary of some opposing gang or another. Lucky for Brianna, she didn't give a fuck.

"The Silver Rush," she stated. "Gun runners. Plasma weapons, mostly."

"Mercenary work?" Cass asked, her lip curling in distaste. "No. Not with those assholes."

"Rival merchants," Brianna explained before Sunny could ask. "Silver Rush and Cassidy's Caravan." She turned to Cass. "Look, you can let that go now, alright? You said it yourself: the caravan's dead and buried. And like fuck am I spending another fortnight in this shit hole while you consider your job opportunities, Cass."

Cass opened her mouth to speak before quickly reconsidering, and pausing for a moment in thought. "If that bitch Gloria starts giving me hell, I'll make the skank eat her hair," she stated. "Deal?"

"Deal," she agreed. "This place could do with some excitement."

* * *

The Silver Rush wasn't far, its glittering sign clearly visible even against the light morning sky. Brianna glanced at her Pip-Boy from time to time, fiddling with the dials and seeing that the gadget provided an option for viewing any 'status changes' that were currently occurring in her body. When she'd brought it up, the device listed:

**HANGOVER - NEGATIVE PERCEPTION**

**NEGATIVE CO-ORDINATION**

**NEGATIVE HYDRATION**

**ARMOUR - POSITIVE PROTECTION**

The walk continued with idle conversation. Veronica and Sunny had at least become accustomed to the troubled woman who was Rose of Sharon Cassidy, and both of the women seemed to have grown closer after their night sharing a room. That was interesting. Veronica seemed strangely interested in Brianna herself, explaining that she'd left the Brotherhood after an argument with their Elder, over something about a Codex. She described them as "Hideously inverted, self-obsessed assholes", and that had been the end of that conversation, replaced by Cass' voice as she sang a few quiet bars of a song. Something about a ranger with a golf club.

The Silver Rush was built like a large casino, distinguishable from any other dilapidated Freeside building by the large sign that looked to have crashed into the partially collapsed upper floor. 'SILVER RUSH GAMBLING HALL' it displayed, although the white graffiti over the door suggested otherwise. It displayed the words, in jagged hand, 'WE SELL WEAPONS - FULLY CHARGED WITH NO EXTRA CHARGE. A guard was positioned at the front door, wielding a huge plasma rifle.

"Woah there," he said, his voice light and relatively jokey, as if he had gone through this routine countless times to the point where it was difficult to take seriously. "I'm afraid I can't let you in. No weapons allowed in here but the ones we're selling. You'd best hand 'em over."

"What?" Brianna demanded. "No fucking-"

"Sure, no problem," Sunny smiled, removing her pistol and handing it to him after shooting a pointed look in Brianna's direction. "You want out of this place," she reminded her. "Remember? Just play nice."

"Thank you, ma'am." The guard took the weapon and proceeded to casually set it inside a large, metal container to his right. He aimed his next words at Brianna. "Trust me, your weapons are as safe as kittens out here. And once you see the stuff we're selling, you'll be throwing all of your own stuff away without a second thought."

Doubtful, Brianna thought. No way in hell could they afford what these assholes were selling. Last time she'd been here, she tried to buy a dual-split laser rifle at the price of five hundred caps - a quarter of the price that the weapon was going for. There was that, and the fact that their weapons were ridiculously underpowered. A laser pistol could just about split a mutfruit in half. The highly powered weapons used plasma which, although extremely deadly, had a shooting speed that challenged that of a dying centaur. She would have her head kicked in before the plasma was halfway to its target.

Nonetheless, she agreed with the guard and flashed him the sweetest smile she could manage before heading inside. Sunny was stopped for a moment and asked to leave Cheyenne waiting outside. She reluctantly agreed before stepping in to join the group. She eyed the place with curiosity, moving next to Brianna and-

Sunny cried out in alarm as she was forced aside, dragged away by a silent figure from somewhere behind her. Brianna reached for a pistol she wouldn't find, just as her arm was grabbed from the inside and painfully twisted behind her back. She couldn't see the guard behind her, but felt his iron grip as he dug his fingers into the more sensitive skin around her upper arm, which was unprotected by the metal plates. She struggled against her captor, planting a hard kick into his shin. The metal plating of her boot clashed ineffectively against the black armour on his lower leg. She could only watch as Cass was grabbed in a similar fashion, vociferating angered curses and struggling fiercely. Veronica was yanked over next to Brianna, useless without her gauntlet.

"What the hell is this?" Brianna demanded.

Her mouth was covered by a gloved hand. "Your interrupting here," the mercenary warned, his voice a low, menacing grumble. "Keep your fuckin' mouth shut. Let the Van Graff's take care of their business."

Her further struggling earned her a hard kick to the back of the leg. Eventually her protests ceased, and she merely watched as the scene unfolded before her eyes.

Her vision was slightly impaired by the metal gates ahead of them, cutting them off from the lower floor. A few paces to her right the gate opened, with two steps descending down towards the main desk. Behind it, a woman stood with her arms folded, barely visible beneath the dim light. A man in a white suit stood in front of the desk, his back to Brianna, while another in heavy metal armour stood aside, plasma rifle aimed and ready to fire at the first man's torso. From the corner of her vision, Brianna spotted the final figure, kneeling down at the opposite side of the room, facing towards the counter and the woman behind it.

"Mister Soren, please get to the point," the woman said calmly, her voice smooth and sultry. "Your payment is late, and I want to know why."

"Miss Van Graff," the white-suited man addressed her, "my associates and I have decided that we would like to renegotiate the terms of our deal." His voice was calm, all business.

"Might I ask for what reason?" The woman replied, a deadly trace of sarcasm in her tone, barely noticeable unless you were used to hearing it. Brianna was. "The shipment was delivered in perfect condition. The guns were tested by my hired men before leaving this facility."

"Regardless, we feel that the quality of the weapons is far below expectation, and hoped to adjust the price accordingly."

"Ah." The woman nodded in understanding. "I believe I understand what the issue here is. Would you excuse me for a moment?" She asked, but remained still. Brianna knew that she had no intention of leaving. After a long, aching silence, her voice gave a simple command.

"Do it."

The guard slowly, lazily, moved his aim from the suited man to the captive kneeling just ahead. A flash of neon green moved in a slow wave towards the captive, hitting his body without a sound. It happened all at once. The captive's body lit up in a brilliant display of yellow light, radiating reds and oranges. And then the man was nothing more than ashes, taking the form of his old body for a split second before falling into a pile on the floor.

"Never break faith with the Van Graffs, Mister Soren," the woman said, her voice flat with disinterest. "I expect you'll have our payment ready for tomorrow morning."

The man did not reply. Instead, he took a few unsteady paces back before bolting from the room, flying up the steps and releasing an involuntary whimper of terror. Brianna could see the spreading dark stain around his crotch as he sped past her, before throwing himself out the door.

"Alright everyone, show's over," the woman announced, her calm tone unchanged. "Let the customers go."

Brianna felt the tight grip around her body loosen as the guard released her, stepping away to join the other three at their designated posts around the room. She could almost hear her heart hammering wildly in her chest, and felt her breath hitch in her throat suddenly.

"A- are you alright?" Sunny asked, her face pale and wrought with concern.

"Fine," Brianna replied through gritted teeth, struggling to steady her trembling voice. "Wonderful."

"Great," Cass complained. "What are the odds of us being vaporised before we reach that fucking desk?"

"I don't fancy my chances," Veronica replied, her eyes darting around uncertainly, never focusing on the one place for long. Lowering her voice, she continued, "I'm from the Brotherhood, and I've never seen so many energy weapons in my lifetime. They'd cream themselves if they knew about this place."

Brianna felt inclined to believe her as the group descended the steps. The desk in the centre of the room was a Brotherhood porno. Set out in neat rows of four were small, round landmines, pulsing with green energy. Grenades were set out similarly, all charged with plasma. Rows and rows of magazines were set out identically, laser cartridges by the look of them. And the _weapons._ Even from her short few days at a Brotherhood post in DC, she had never seen the likes of some of the guns they held here. A plasma caster served as the counter's centrepiece. The weapon's body was a shiny, metal cannister, covered with various knobs and buttons. It then extended out into a deadly metal claw. She had never seen one in action, but she'd heard about the agony it could inflict, firing super-heated plasma at high speed. Along with the plasma caster were a number of laser pistols, plasma rifles, and flamers. She felt like Chet back in Goodsprings, gazing upon the weapons with wide, hungry eyes.

"Sorry about the wait," came the voice of Gloria Van Graff as she leaned over the desk. "We had some business to take care of. You should never have been let in the door, in fact. But don't worry; I'll be having a long talk with our guard."

"Oh, uh, you don't have to do that," Sunny stammered. "Really, it's okay."

"Oh? Now you think you can tell me what I can and cannot do?"

"No, no, that's not it at all, I just..." She trailed off meekly.

"It's just nothing, I assume? Good. Wonderful."

Brianna eyed the Van Graff with cautious interest. The woman was beautiful, and strikingly so, with piercing eyes of gunmetal grey. Her flawless skin was a deep shade of bronze, her face sharply angled and stunning, even without hair to frame it. Her full lips were curled into a constant challenging smirk; her eyebrows were dramatically angled. She was one of the few people in the room not wearing armour, instead donning a silvery blue jumpsuit of silky fabric, its collar dipping into a low v-neck and exposing a considerable amount of cleavage.

"Uh, we were looking for work," Sunny said.

"Work?" She asked, pouting her perfect lips in a look of feigned surprise. "Oh, my apologies. I assumed you were a caravan company." She looked to Cass with an unreadable expression.

Cass stepped forward to face Gloria. A look of realisation flickered on her face. "The caravan got destroyed."

_No. _Brianna's right hand tensed, searching for the pistol that wasn't there.

"Actually," Cass went on, "it was burned."

_Shit. Shit, shit shit._

"Burnt to _ash._ Vaporised."

_No fucking way._

"But you wouldn't know anything about that..."

_Aw, hell._

"Would you?"

Gloria blinked slowly, her face a peaceful mask as she looked to the man next to her. The one who had turned the kneeling captive to ash. _Her brother, _Brianna realised. _Jean-Baptiste Cutting. _The guy was a ruthless, merciless bastard. At one word he could-

"Kill them."

Everything happened in rapid speed. Cutting readied his plasma caster. Cass leapt over the counter, one hand clawing at Gloria's scalp as she sent the landmines flying aside with one foot. Veronica grabbed the cannister of a flamer and rushed for Cutting, slamming the object into his head before he could fire another shot. Sunny looked around, frightened and uncertain, as Brianna grabbed the nearest weapon she could find. A laser pistol. She readied the weapon just as two Van Graff thugs came running down the steps, guns ready.

The first three shots went straight to the face, sending the closest thug down with a wild scream of pain. Brianna had just enough time to jump aside before a laser was shot in her direction. She wasted no time firing another six shots into the mercenary's head, before grabbing a magazine from the counter and quickly reloading.

Another thug came running towards her before she could react, firing three shots in quick succession. The first hit one of the metal plates on her armour, while the second burned through a few strands of hair. She third was better placed, burning through the lighter fabric on her arm and searing in through her skin. She dropped her weapon with a hiss of pain, blinded by hot tears and clutching at her arm. "Fuck, fuck, fuh... Ah..."

She attempted to straighten herself. Couldn't. There was no more oxygen in her lungs; her heart was desperately pumping and pounding in her ears. _Only a flesh wound, _she thought dully, unable to make sense of what was happening as everything around her slowed. She could see a flash of red, a streak of green. Going against what little medical knowledge she had, she immediately diagnosed herself with having intestines that were constricting around her stomach. And then she realised what was happening, as she gasped for air.

_Panic attack._

She could see two mercenaries running towards her. She could see the barrel of a silver pistol. _Plasma rifle, plasma rifle, plasma rifle, _she told herself. There was no pistol. There was no wicked grin, no chequered, suit, no... No...

_No._

"Brianna!" Someone screamed from far away. A hand grabbed at her arm and pulled her to her feet before throwing her aside. Everything was a blur. And then it wasn't. The world sharpened. Sped up. Everything was happening so quickly that she could barely make sense of it, clinging to a weapon rack for support as she attempted to catch her breath. She looked on with wide eyes as Sunny fired three ringing shots into one guard's head, before quickly moving on to the second.

"A little help here!" Veronica called, attempting to wrench the plasma caster from the hands of Jean-Baptiste. Brianna leapt into action, moving towards the desk wherever Cass continued to fight off Gloria Van Graff. She grabbed the nearest weapon and closed her hand around it.

_This'll be interesting._

With her head and heart pounding, she rushed towards Cutting and Veronica as the Scribe was thrown backwards. Cutting slammed the plasma weapon down over her head, and Veronica crumpled. Satisfied, the guard moved back and faced Brianna with a triumphant smirk.

She moved quickly, throwing herself on him with all of her strength. Cutting stumbled, giving Brianna just enough time to pull the pin on the pulse grenade and shove it down the bastard's throat. Cutting's eyes bulged as the weapon fell from his grip. He raked at his throat with his nails.

Brianna leapt over the desk as the blast went off. A highly concentrated wave of electricity erupted out from Cutting's mouth, shooting outwards into a crackling dome. His body twisted and contorted in a wild dance, his metal armour sending volts of electricity shooting through his body.

"No!" Gloria cried in anguish, attempting to throw Brianna aside and run for her twin. She failed. Brianna quickly span around, digging her nails into Gloria's wrist before pinning her hand down against the desk before slamming a fist down on her bleeding head.

"Cass," she said, turning to the panting redhead. "Make the skank eat her hair."


End file.
